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A Sovereign Remedy 




BY 

FLORA ANNIE STEEL 


New York: 1906 


All righti reserved 


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UBKARY cf CONGRESS 
) wo uoijies Received 

AUG 1 1906 

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CLAS^(K AAC. No, 

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COPY A, 


COPTRIGHT, 1906, 

Bt flora ANNIE STEEL 



(SCrotij prej5^, gotfi 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


CHAPTER I 

‘ ‘ Oh ! Dash it all ! . . . I’m so sorry . . . ! ” 

‘ ‘ Oh ! Dash it all ’m so sorry . . . ! ” 

The coincident exclamations and their sequent apology 
were separated by a crash, followed by a pause, during 
which the two cyclists who had collided picked themselves 
out of the dust unhurt and looked quickly at their ma- 
chines ; finally turning to each other with a smiling hien- 
veillance born of relief — for there was no denying that 
the affair might have been serious, and they were both 
conscious of sin. 

‘ ‘ It was my fault ; I was looking at the view, ’ ’ said one 
of the two young men candidly. He was a trifie the 
taller, the broader, and distinctly the better looking ; but 
they were both excellent specimens of clean, wholesome- 
looking British manhood ; curiously alike also, not only in 
feature, but in resolute adherence to the conventional 
type. 

‘ ‘ But so was I ! ” returned the other. His voice was 
the pleasanter, not perhaps so resonant, but with more 
modulation in it. “ Besides, your machine is damaged, 
and mine isn’t — Oh! by George! I hadn’t noticed the 
pedal,” he added, following the other’s look. He bent 
for closer inspection, then gave a laugh which was but 
half rueful; in truth, he was not altogether dissatisfied 
with this justice of Providence. 

About equal — so we’ll cry quits,” he said. 

It means walking for us both,” said the other with 
a shrug. ‘ ‘ Are you going my way ? ’ ’ 

He nodded towards the blue depths of the valley, 
1 


2 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


which, from this gap in the wavy outline of rolling hill 
where they stood, dipped down to the distant sea that lay 
half-way up the sky like a level pale-blue cloud. 

The gap was the summit level between east and west ; as 
such, a meeting-place for much water, and many roads. 

One of the latter meandered backwards over the wide 
stretch of pink bell-heather and tasselled cotton grass 
which told of a catchment bog, where, even in fine weath- 
er, the mountain mists dissolved into dew, and the dew 
gathered itself into dark peaty pools like brown eyes 
among the tufted lashes of the bents and rushes. 

And on either side of this central track two others 
curved down the rolling moor, north and south, to turn 
sharply behind a patch of gorse and boulders to join 
hands, all three, for the steep descent before them, as if 
afraid of solitude in this new venture. Whence, indeed, 
had come the collision between the two cyclists, each in- 
tent on a suddenly disclosed view. 

“ There is no other way — except back on our traces — 
back to Blackborough — Good Lord ! ’ ’ came the reply. 

The first speaker smiled. “ So you are a Blackberry 
also — Well! it is an awful place — one can hardly credit 
up here that all the soot and dirt is only — say a hundred 
miles off. Here one can breathe ” 

He looked as if he could do more than that, as, finally 
shaking himself free of the last speck of dust, he prepared 
to start. 

“ Left nothing behind, I hope,’’ said the other, 
glancing back. ‘‘ Hullo! There’s a letter tumbled out 
of somebody ’s pocket in the stramash — ^yours or mine ? ’ ’ 

It lay address upwards between them, and the taller of 
the two with a brief ‘ ‘ Mine, ’ ’ picked it up and put it in 
his pocket. His companion stared at him. 

‘ ‘ Look here, ’ ’ he said, holding out his hand. “You ’ve 
made a mistake — ^that letter belongs to me — I ’m Edward 
Cruttenden. ’ ’ 

It was the other’s turn to stare. “ The deuce you are ! 
Why! — my name is Edward Cruttenden! ” 

They stood thus staring at each other with a sudden 


A SOYEREIQIf REMEDY 


3 

dim sense of their own similarity, until the shorter of the 
two shook his head whimsically. 

“ This is confusing,” he remarked in a tone of argu- 
ment. ‘ ‘ Let ’s sit down and have a pipe over it — we shall 
have to differentiate ourselves before we start out into 
the world together. ’ ^ 

Almost at their feet a tiny trickle of water, scarcely 
heard in its soft bed of sphagnum moss, told that already 
the descent had begun; but this was stayed a few feet 
further by a rocky hollow in which the stream gathered 
and brimmed, so that as you looked out over the shallow- 
ing pool, the rushes which fringed it stood out against the 
far distant blue of the sea beyond, and there seemed no 
reason why the little lakelet should not take one wild leap 
into the ocean, and so save itself many miles of weary 
journeying through unseen valleys. 

On the brink of this pool, their backs against a con- 
venient boulder, their legs on the short sweet turf that 
was kept like a lawn by the hungry nip of mountain 
sheep, the two Edward Cruttendens rested, smoked, and 
compared notes ; somewhat dilatorily, since the afternoon 
was fine and the effect of a sinking sun on moor and fell 
absolutely soul-satisfying. 

Let^s differentiate our names somehow,” said the 
pleasant- voiced one lazily — “ Did your godfathers, etc., 
do anything more for you than Edward — ^mine didn’t.” 

The other shook his head. Something in his handsome 
face had already differentiated itself from the amused 
curiosity on his companion ’s. 

“ That’s awkward — we shall be driven to abbrevia- 
tions. You shall be Ted, and I Ned — both dentals but 
philologically uninterchangeable ; so they’ll do for the 
present. Well, Ted, since you are twenty-seven and I’m 
gone twenty-nine, and my father died before I was born, 
we can’t be complicated up as long-lost brothers — can 
we? ” 

Ted turned to him frowning sharply — ‘ ‘ No ! but — but 
what put that into your head. I ’ ^ 

Ned laughed ; a laugh as musical as his voice, but with 


4 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


a quaint aloofness about it as if he himself were standing 
aside to listen. 

‘ ‘ The position is — romantic ; and novels have it so al- 
ways. As if it were not frankly impossible in this Eng- 
land of ours to dissociate one man from another by breed 
— we’re hopeless mongrels, kin to each other all round. 
Birth counts for nothing; so let’s quit it — Upbringing? ” 

Ted interrupted shortly — “ I — I never knew my fa- 
ther, and my mother died when I was born.” 

“ So did mine,” said Ned softly. 

There was a pause in which the luring wail of a circling 
plover who deemed the intruders too near her nest, be- 
came insistent, and seemed to fill the mountain solitude 
with a sense of motherhood, until, once more, the musical, 
critical laugh struck in on it. 

‘ ‘ ‘ Come ! ’ as Shakespeare says, ‘ there ’s sympathy 
for you ! ’ So far we start fair. Education ? — I was at 
Eton, and ” 

‘ ‘ I was a-' Blue-Coat boy, ’ ’ interrupted Ted again, and 
something in his tone made Ned look the other way, and 
idly busy himself in trying to dissociate a tender trail of 
ivy-leaved mountain campanula from its coarser com- 
panions in the turf. 

A better education, I expect,” he said at last, 
“ though I admit the yellow stockings must be devilish; 
still ” — he paused, settled himself yet more comfortably 
in his cleft, and with clasped hands behind his head, re- 
lapsed into smoke and silence. Even the plover, con- 
vinced of their innocence, had ceased her wheeling, luring 
wail. 

So desultorily, sometimes in thought only, sometimes by 
question and answer, they sat trying to dissociate them- 
selves from the tie of a common name. And before them 
the afternoon sun, slowly sinking towards extinction in 
the sea, began to send level rays of light to fill up the 
valley with a golden haze in which all things lost their 
individuality. 

Finally Ned sat up, and knocked the ashes out of his 
pipe. 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 5 

About equal, I should say; except, of course, for 
money. ’ ’ 

That means we are unequal in all things, ’ ’ remarked 
Ted shortly. “You can’t deny it. A clerk as I am, out 
for a Whitsun holiday with ten pounds to spend on it in 
his pocket, isn ’t — isn ’t in the same week with — ^well ! what 
shall I say ” 

“ A man who employs clerks,” suggested Ned with a 
smile. 

Ted gave an impatient shrug. “As you will. How- 
ever you come by it, you admit having a hundred 
pounds. ’ ’ 

“A hundred and ten I should say,” interrupted Ned, 
who was counting a handful of loose gold and silver. 
“I’ve a hundred in notes besides. However! That 
needn ’t be a difficulty 1 ’ ’ 

The level, golden sun-rays flashed on a curved gold 
flight, as a bright new sovereign flitted duck-and-drake 
fashion over the brimming pool at their f eet^ then disap- 
peared, leaving a circled series of ripples like a smoke 
wreath on its shiny surface. 

‘ ‘ Hold hard 1 I say — ^you know — here 1 stop that, will 
you — don ’t be such a blamed fool 1 ” . . . 

There was imminent danger of a struggle in reality 
when a voice from the road behind them said with a 
mixture of appeal and authority : 

‘ ‘ Do not quarrel, see you, my good fellows, but tell me 
the cause of your disagreement, and I will advise to the 
best of my ability. ’ ’ 

The speaker, also a young man of some thirty years, 
was tall and dark with a jaw which should have been 
strong from its length, but was curiously marred by the 
almost feminine softness of contour which belied the blue 
shadow of a hard-shaven beard. For the rest he had a 
fine pair of fiery dark eyes, set close to the thick eyebrows 
which almost met on his high, narrow forehead. It was 
the face of a saint or a sinner, preferably the former; 
but whichever way, the face of an enthusiast. 

“ You’re a parson,” said Ned, ceasing from horseplay 


6 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


and eyeing the rusty black suit. “ So we will refer to 
you, sir, since you are bound by your cloth to agree with 
me, and say that money is the root of all evil. ’ ’ 

Apprised of the cause of dispute, the Reverend Morris 
Pugh, of the Calvinistic Methodist Church in the valley 
below, sat and looked doubtfully first at the loose gold 
and silver, then at Ned Cruttenden’s critical blue eyes. 
Both appealed to him strongly; the poetry of his race 
leapt up to meet the one, the inordinate valuation of even 
a penny, also typical of his race, reached out to the other. 

Don’t say it might be sold and given to the poor,” 
said Ned with a sudden smile — “ To begin with, the re- 
mark has been appropriated by Judas, and then, it’s such 
a rank begging of the question ! Poor or rich, the point at 
issue between us — my friend over there being a bit of a 
socialist is, of course, a bit of a mammon worshipper also 
— is whether gold is — is a sovereign remedy ! I say not. 
It doesn’t touch the personal equation, which is all we 
have — if we have that ! So I contend that neither I, nor 
the world at large, would suffer if I made ducks and 
drakes like this ...” 

Another curving flight of gold ended in a swift whit- 
whitter of lessening leaps and a flnal disappearance ; but 
this time the detaining hand was Morris Pugh’s. His 
eager face held no doubt as to his desire, though his mind 
evidently hesitated over a reason for it. 

“ You really, sir, ought not,” he began; then paused. 

“ Why? ” asked Ned quietly. 

Ted answered. “ Because it isn’t really yours. You 
never earned it. I’ll bet, and the wealth of the world is 
labour ” 

Ned emptied his handful on the turf and interrupted 
him. 

‘ ‘ I give them up ! There they are, your sovereign 
remedies ! What are you going to do with them ? Why ! 
spend them to please yourselves, of course, as I was doing, 
as every one does ! So I repeat, it wouldn ’t matter a hang 
to the world or any of us three here present if I were to 
make ” 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 7 

A third sovereign would have followed the other two, 
but for the arresting power of a new voice. 

‘ ‘ Perhaps not ; but it would be a most distinct injury 
to one Peter Ramsay, M.D. So just hand it over, will 
ye? ’’ 

Close behind them stood a sturdy, thick-set man, with 
bright red-brown eyes and bright bronze-red hair. 

He had evidently come down one of the steep mountain 
sheep-tracks, leading his pony, for it stood beside him 
now, its hoofs half hidden in the moss, while it stretched 
its inquiring muzzle towards the glittering pile of sover- 
eigns, as if suspicioning them as a new kind of corn. 

“ Welcome, sir, so far as I am concerned,’’ replied 
Ned calmly. ‘‘ But it isn’t in any lack of claimants that 
our difficulty lies. We have in fact too many! Our rev- 
erend friend wants the shekels, why he would be puzzled 
to say, since he preaches that they have no purchasing 
power for the one thing needful. My namesake over 
there wouldn’t be averse to them, though he holds the 
possession of gold to be a crime ” 

‘ ‘ I never said so, ’ ’ broke in Ted hotly. 

‘ ‘ Excuse me ! It follows inevitably from your premise 
of equality. That gives the coup de grace to lawful per- 
sonal possession of anything; since ‘ to possess,’ means 
the having and holding of something extraneous to the 
personality, whereas if every personality has an equal 
amount of any one thing, that thing ceases to be a posses- 
sion and becomes part of the personality! — which, of 
course, is mere hair-splitting! As for you, doctor, you 
also are illogical. Health and life are the goods you 
desire, yet money is no remedy for disease and death. 
Practically, I am the only one with a leg to stand upon. 
I am a pleasure seeker, pure and simple, so, as this gives 
me pleasure — here goes ! ’ ’ 

The third curved flight of gold finished his remarks so 
pointedly that silence fell upon all four, as they looked 
out on the golden light haze, which, finding a mist- wreath 
in its path, had driven it, all transmuted into gold, to blot 
out both land and sea, leaving nothing visible save that 


8 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


foreground of rippled brimming pool, set in its fringe of 
rushes. The peewit, fearful once more lest the new comers 
should have keener eyes, wheeled and wailed; the pony, 
dissatisfied with the sovereigns, nosed and nibbled re- 
fiectively at the coarse grass and the delicate campanula. 

“ I’ll tell you what,” cried Ned suddenly, his face 
showing a half scornful amusement. ‘‘ Let Fate decide 
which of us needs money most ! ’ ’ He took out a pocket- 
book as he spoke, and withdrew from it a sheaf of bank 
notes. ‘ ‘ There ’s a hundred here, and I don ’t want it — 
that ’ ’ — he pointed to the cash — ‘ ' will carry me through 
for a week, so my namesake and I could start fair to- 
gether for a holiday — if he chooses. I ’ll leave this, there- 
fore, on desposit ! There is a convenient cleft in the rock 
over there, and my tobacco-pouch will keep out the 
damp ” 

He produced the latter also, and began leisurely to ex- 
change contents, while the others gasped 

‘‘ But, sir, you can never mean,” began the Reverend 
Morris Pugh, finding his voice first — “ To leave money 

here, so close to the road ! — think of the temptation 1 

“To us, certainly,” interrupted Ned dryly, “ but to 
no one else. It is ours to take when we think the world — 
that is, of course, ourselves — wants it — but mind you — we 
are to say nothing about the taking to any one else in the 
world. Of course, we agree to treat it as — let us say, a 
sovereign remedy; therefore we’re to use it only to — to 
cure what we can’t cure without it.” 

“ Or think we can’t cure,” amended Peter Ramsay 
with twinkling eyes, ‘ ‘ my prescriptions are personal mat- 
ters between me and my conscience. The idea is fetching, 

an unappropriated balance ” 

‘ ‘ Hardly unappropriated, ’ ’ remarked Ned caustically, 
“it is apparently hypothecated — as you Scotch call it, 
doctor — to philanthropy, for I suppose charity mustn’t 
begin at home. ’ ’ 

“ Why not? ” put in Ned. “ There’s really no limita- 
tion of object or time. Any of us may withdraw the 
deposit to-morrow without notice to any one, if he pos- 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


9 

sess a solid conviction that — that he can ’t do without it ? 
Do you all agree? 

There was a pause. 

“ It’s d — d rot,” said Ted Cruttenden at last sulkily, 
^ ‘ but on those conditions I agree. ’ ’ 

The Reverend Morris Pugh looked abstractedly over 
the golden haze in which the whole world was hidden. 

“ Money is the root of all evil,” he began. 

“ Bosh! ” interrupted Dr. Ramsay, springing to his 
feet. “I’m game I I shall take that money, if some of 

you aren’t too previous, for the first real necessity ” 

Ned Cruttenden sprang to his feet also, and laughed. 
“ So will I, if I can only make up my mind as to what 
constitutes a ‘ real necessity. ’ ’ ’ 

The two stood challenging each other, then the red- 
brown eyes under the shaggy bronze-red eyebrows 
softened. 

“ Not much. I’ll allow; very often bare life.” 

Ned stooped to secrete the tobacco-pouch murmuring, 
11 faut vivre! Pour moi je n’en vois pas la necessite! ” 
Then he looked up. “ There it is, gentlemen, very 
much at your disposal. And now, namesake, we can start 
fair — for our walk to the first blacksmith’s shop any- 
how. ’ ’ 

Five minutes afterwards the golden haze had usurped 
even the still unrippled pool and the cleft in the rock, 
while the four young men on the downward path were 
lost to view utterly. 


CHAPTER II 


Owen J ones, who in his leathern apron might have been 
a moyen age smith, looked np and said something lengthy 
in Welsh, whereupon the eager, alert little crowd, which 
had gathered round on the chance of a new emotion, 
echoed something else in Welsh, smiled, nodded, and 
looked sage. 

“ Well,” said Ted impatiently. 

The smith having no English, the office of translator 
was taken up by Morris Pugh, who, with a certain appro- 
priative courtesy, had shown them all the beauties of the 
way with pardonable pride, informed them effusively and 
charmingly of his past life, his present opinions, told 
them of his widowed mother with tears in his eyes, of his 
clever young brother whose ambition was Parliament with 
a thrill of pride in his voice, and had finally introduced 
them formally to the smith as an elder of his chapel. 

“ In about half-an-hour they will be ready, he says; 
and, see you, Owen Jones is an excellent workman, in- 
deed.” Here he raised his voice and looked round for 
approval. ‘ ‘ None better, I am sure. ’ ’ 

“No! Indeed,” assented Isaac Edwards, who, another 
elder, had come from his merchant’s shop over the way 
to help on the general interest, ‘ ‘ there will be none better 
than Owen Jones from Pembroke to Pwlhelli! ” 

The largeness of this proposition suited the hearers. It 
reflected credit on themselves, their clan, their country; 
so the quarrymen off duty from their piles of slaty shale 
among the oak woods, and the boys off school this Satur- 
day afternoon, smiled and saluted quasi-military fashion 
as the two Cruttendens moved off to seek tea in the little 
inn, where a Cycle Club sign was nearly hidden in a 

10 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY H 

massive cotoneaster — all red berries and white blossoms — 
which covered the walls from roadway to gable. 

Here they bid good-bye to the Reverend Morris Pugh ’s 
good offices. He was due ere long in chapel for choir 
practice and prayer meeting. As he said so, the unction 
came into his voice which was noticeable whenever he 
touched on his profession. It was as if some necessity for 
shibboleth arose in him, as if some claim — not altogether 
natural — had to be considered. Indeed, he had lingered 
a moment to say that prayer was needful everywhere — 
even in the peaceful hamlet of Dinas — prayer for some 
outpouring of the Spirit this Whitsuntide week. There 
had been no special manifestation at present, but one 
might come any moment — the Lord’s mercy being nigh 
to all them that feared Him; let them remember that. 
So, having said his word in season, he changed his man- 
ner, wished them good luck heartily, and thus left them 
to their own company; for the Scotch doctor, who had 
also proved a pleasant acquaintance, had branched olf at 
the bridge, some half a mile up the hill from the little 
hollow in which Dinas hid itself modestly among the 
trees. But you could see where the bridge lay, because of 
the startling red-and- white school beside it, which looked 
as if it had sprung, like Diana from Jove’s brain, fully 
armed for education out of the bare hillside. 

Ted, looking through the inn window as they waited 
for tea, saw it, and the problem as to why it had been 
built so far away from the village, a problem which Mor- 
ris Pugh had evaded, recurred to him. 

‘‘ I should say, because the site — belonged to some 
one, ’ ’ said Ned coolly. ‘ ‘ These things will happen — even 
to Boards. They are part of our commercial standard — 
caveat emptorl And in this case, the purchaser being 
the public — well, we don’t think of the public as our 
neighbour. No ! the public is an ill dog in temperance 
Wales! — especially amongst the Calvinistic Methodists. 
The parson, though, is a good sort — he didn’t fancy the 
subject! ” 

“ Not as he fancied the Welsh motto over the door,” 


12 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


laughed Ted. ‘ ‘ By George ! how he let out about foreign 
languages and Wales being a conquered country. I had 
to drop reason and the Norman invasion, or there ’d have 
been a row. He was awfully like Ffluellen — what a 
genius Shakespeare was.” 

“ Yes! He understood, and you don’t. I tell you, 
Wales is the most Rip-van-winkleish place in the world. 
You can go to sleep in a fifteenth-century farm and wake 
up the day after to-morrow in an Intermediate School. 
I’ve been in India, and it reminds me awfully of the 
National Congress. But I like it, though it is fatiguing 
to any one with a hankering after fact. Still, if there 
was a little more water — there is none in summer time, 
you know — and a little less rain, a little more right, and 
a trifie less righteousness it would do very well. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Righteousness I ’ ’ echoed Ted, ‘ ‘ there ’s enough of 
that, anyhow. Two, four, six, eight, eight belfries to how 
many souls in the village ? — four hundred all told ? ’ ’ 
That’s only four chapels; the others are Sunday 
schools, I ’ll bet — ‘ the Macleods must have a boat o ’ their 
ain.’ Then there’s the church — that ruin up yonder — 

it’ll have a school too ” 

But Ted’s attention was diverted. “ I say,” he re- 
marked, ‘ ‘ that ’s a ripping girl ! ’ ’ 

She had come out of a cottage a little way from the inn 
to intercept Morris Pugh and was engaging him in a live- 
ly conversation, despite his hurry. She was tall, dressed 
in black that glinted, and the fact that her hair was in 
curling pins did not interfere with her very voyante good 
looks. 

“ H ’m ! ” remarked Ned, coming over to see, ‘ ‘ reminds 
me of last Monday — I mean Bank Holiday! Doesn’t 
she? ” 

The sarcasm was just, but it brought a faintly-annoyed 
fiush to his companion’s face. He knew himself to be a 
lower bred man, and the other Edward Cruttenden had a 
trick of reminding him of this and of certain other facts 
which, given fair choice, he would probably have for- 
gotten. 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


13 

So the village was left to its own devices till tea was 
over, when he took his pipe to the window again. 

‘ ‘ Barring the prices, which whip an International Ex- 
hibition,” he remarked, “ this would be a jolly head- 
quarters spot. That big hill — ‘ Eye of the World,’ the 
parson called it, didn’t he? — is ripping! ” 

This time the word lost its inherent triviality before 
the dignity of those receding curves of sunshine shown 
by shadow, which swept up to the light-smitten crest of 
the great mountain. 

“ Personally,” remarked Ned drily, “ I find the view 
of the smithy more — Now, don’t ! — It isn’t the least good 
fussing — it’s the village tea-time, and not all the king’s 
horses ’ ’ 

But Ted and his bad words were off hammering at the 
closed doors, and finally running the smith to earth, hav- 
ing tea comfortably on an oak dresser hung with lustre 
jugs. It was a very small, but highly decorated cottage, 
this of the smith, showing uneducated artistic cravings in 
many things, in a harmonium, endless cheap photograph 
frames, china enormities, a few glazed certificates in 
Welsh to one “ Myfanwy Jones,” and here and there a 
priceless bit of Staffordshire ware. 

Then ensued a deadlock. For the smith, scenting 
coercion, flared up instantly in Welsh, and Ted, conscious 
of breach of contract, grew abusive in English, till sud- 
denly from above, came a full, high voice. ‘ ‘ I will come 
down when I have finished dressing. Pray, sir, accommo- 
date yourself with a cup of tea.” 

Then followed shrill Welsh exordiums to the smith, 
which resulted in a cheerful smile as he reached down 
another cup. 

Ted took it, also a piece of bread and butter, feeling 
he could do nothing else, and as he sat waiting, the fem- 
inine voice continued upstairs a conversation which ap- 
parently had been going on when he had burst into the 
cottage, though he had been too ill-used to notice it. 

‘ ‘ If you do not want the hat, Alicia Edwards, you can 
oblige by replacing in the box; but you will be dowdy 


14 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


beside the other girls at choir holiday, and Mervyn will 
not look at you twice. No, indeed ! And it is but one- 
and-twenty shillings. Dirt cheap ! Be wise and buy. 
See, you shall have it for a pound, and you can pay when 
you marry Mervyn.’^ 

‘ ‘ Mary ! ’ ’ choked a softer, more emotional voice. 
“ Ah! I only want him to look at me. Ah, Myfanwy! 
Do you think he could ’’ 

“ If you do not care for the height in front you can 
wear it hindside before. It is even just so fashionable, ’ ’ 
went on the first voice, regardless of sentiment. “ Put 
it on, child, and don ’t be so foolish. What is a pound, and 
you a pupil teacher ? There! You look beautiful. Now, 
give me my hat pins, I must go to that man down- 
stairs. ’ ’ 

A frou-frou of silk petticoats on the ladder stairs which’ 
led up from a corner of the living room made Ted look 
round. 

He saw, first, a pair of many-strapped, beaded black 
shoes with superlatively high heels, next, an interval of 
trim, black openwork stockings, finally, in a tourhillon 
of laced silk flouncings, over which it let down a trailing 
black satin dress, a vision, in which Ted at once recog- 
nised the girl in curling pins; or rather her apotheosis, 
for she was now glorious both within and without. 

Her beautiful figure was literally cased in a tight 
bodice, which looked as if she must have been melted and 
run into it ere it could be so guiltless of wrinkles. The 
heavy lace yoke with which it was made showed the white- 
ness of her skin beneath it; a whiteness which held its 
own against the double row of false pearls about her 
neck. For the rest she was planned, laid out, developed 
in exact accordance with a Paris model in a shop. 

In one hand she held a most irresponsible creation, 
which Ted almost diagnosed as a hat, though it had 
neither crown nor brim, and in the other, a perfect sheaf 
of long, black-headed pins. 

She smiled at him with frank favour and, saying care- 
lessly, “ The smith, my father, will attend to you, sir. 


A SOYEREIGN REMEDY 


15 


when he has had tea, ’ ’ passed on to a little mirror on the 
wall, placed the irresponsible creation on her tumultuous 
yet disciplined waves of hair in the very last position of 
which any sane creature would have dreamt, and pro- 
ceeded, apparently, to stick the long pins through her 
head. 

Seeing, however, in the glass Ted’s face of angry con- 
sternation, she flashed round on him tartly yet conde- 
scendingly. 

“ It is no use trying to hurry Dinas. They are country 
people, not like London or Blackborough. This is not 
Williams and Edwards, or such like place, I can tell 
you. ’ ’ 

The name of the biggest drapery Arm in Blackborough 
gave Ted a clue to some of his perplexity. 

“ I see,” he said slowly, “ that’s how you come to be — 
you are in the shop, of course, aren’t you? ” 

She was by this time dexterously rolling back her veil 
preparatory to tieing it behind, her chin held down to 
keep it in position. So her dark eyes had full play as 
she retorted that she was. Second, in fact, in the mantle 
department — because of her flgure. She displayed it 
lavishly in manipulating her veil, smiling the while at her 
own consciousness of perfection. 

Ted smiled also. The big, bold, beautiful animal was 
distinctly fetching. He said something to that effect 
which made her giggle. 

‘‘You should pass your time coming to choir practice,” 
she said, challenging him again quite frankly, when, after 
much shrill Welsh with her father, the latter stuck to 
two hours as his shortest limit for repair. “ I sing in 
chapel when I am on holiday still ; my music-master was 
the great Taleisin — that is his bard’s name, of course — 
and Alicia Edwards, here, has won so many times in 
competition. ’ ’ 

The last sentence introduced a girl who had just come 
downstairs, with a display of white lace stockings and 
thereinafter a blue dress surmounted by an extremely 
smart hat, possibly the one over the purchase of which 


16 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


Myfanwy Jones had spent her eloquence. The girl was 
fair and pretty, but there was about her that marked lack 
of personal grip on her surroundings, which is so notice- 
ably a result of eleven years and more of strict Board 
School life ; for Alicia ’s father had marked her out as a 
pupil teacher when she joined the infant class at three. 
That had been her ambition till she secured the position 
at sixteen. Now, at seventeen ? At seventeen she blushed 
and giggled when Myfanwy went on : 

“She will sing with Mervyn Pugh, our minister’s 
brother. He is a very good looking young man — just so 
good looking as you.” 

To which obvious challenge Ted said something which 
changed the giggle to a titter; after which he left them, 
feeling a trifle uncertain as to the result of a reference to 
Ned. 

He found him lying flat on his stomach on the bridge 
which spanned the stream again a little further down the 
village, watching, so he said, for even a shadow of a trout 
in the deep pool below it, a pool which after the long 
spring drought was only connected to the next one by a 
mere driblet of water. 

“ Do? ” echoed Ned, looking up at Ted with a twinkle 
in his eyes. ‘ ‘ Excelsior, of course. ’ ’ He waved his pipe 
towards the “ World’s Eye,” still shrugging high should- 
ers in the sunshine, and away from Miss Myfanwy Jones, 
who was standing with Alicia Edwards at the gate of 
her father’s neglected cabbage-patch, buttoning her grey 
suede gloves with a hook from her silver chatelaine. Her 
face showed beautiful unconsciousness, though her eyes 
were on the alert. 

Ted hesitated ; then from a larger cottage emerged the 
Reverend Morris Pugh, very spick and span, accompanied 
by a younger man, evidently by his looks the handsome 
Mervyn. But the forehead fringe which, after the fash- 
ion of young Wales, he wore, was too much for Ted. It 
looked exactly as if it, also, had been in a curling pin, 
and feeling vaguely that he would rather not be seen by 
Ned in its company, he laughed, said “ Excelsior, by all 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 17 

means, ’ ’ and led the way, taking off his hat to the charmer 
as he passed. 

Five minutes afterwards, pausing for breath, their 
first spurt upwards done, the village lay behind them, 
looking solitary in its close cohesion of cottages and 
trees. 

But from the church, all ivy-mantled amid its wide 
graveyard, a bell was clanging, and across the grassy 
mounds dotted with stones, a tall figure in a black cassock 
and a biretta cap made its way to the vestry door. 

‘ ‘ The voice of one crying in the wilderness, ’ ’ remarked 
Ned, “ but he has the bell ringer for congregation, and 
even Miss Myfanwy Jones will come back to the old 
churchyard in the end, as her fathers have done, for a 
penny funeral. ’ ’ Then he laughed. ‘ ‘ I shall never for- 
get my Scotch groom ” he paused. Ted eyed him 

curiously. 

‘‘ WelH ” he said. 

Oh, nothing! only his criticism on a Welsh funeral 
was scathing. ‘ There was no a drop o’ whisky, an’ they 
asket me tae pit inter the brod 1 ’ Insult on injury 1 ’ ’ 

So, laughing, they made their way upwards, through 
black land and bog, through thickets of unimaginably tall 
brake, and over sparse close-bitten knolls, the sheep fly- 
ing in disorder from them like a routed army, a stonechat 
starting from the gorse giving them a momentary thought 
of game — a thought, no more. And the sunshine mounted 
with them, chased by the shadow, so that it came upon 
them by surprise when they reached the summit to see the 
valley below them veiled in soft purple, and the sun itself 
not far from setting behind an ominous low level of cloud 
which lay far out to seaward. 

“ It has taken longer than I thought,” said Ned, 
stretching himself flat on his stomach, “ but there is 
plenty of time.” 

‘ ‘ Plenty, ’ ’ echoed Ted, cross-legged like a Turk as he 
knocked out the ashes of his pipe on a stone. 

We’ve done the ginger-beer woman, anyhow,” re- 
marked Ned after a pause. She comes there,” he 


18 


A 80YEREI0N REMEDY 


pointed to a hovel of stones a few hundred yards further 
along the plateau, ‘ ‘ from the Llangolley side ; seven a.m. 
till seven p.m. during tourist time, the innkeeper said. I 
wonder how she spends her day? ” Then, half to him- 
self, he added, “ As if this wasn ’t meat and drink enough 
for any one. ’ ’ 

It should have been. Far and near, cleft by the pur- 
pling shadow from below, the higher hill-tops dissociated 
themselves from the lower ones, shining rosy, resplendent, 
giving back the sun its parting gift royally, yet yielding 
bit by bit to the swift storming uprush of shadow. An- 
other, and another picket of light stood, broke, fled from 
the foe to some higher refuge, until the last steadfast post 
of the “ World’s Eye ” remained alone above a world of 
shadow. Remained alone, a vantage-ground of clear 
vision, above the wide cup of amethyst hills in which the 
flood-tide of the sea lay prisoned. So still, so serene, so 
silvery, lulled to unresisting sleep, as a captive bride 
might l3e, by love for the surpassing beauty of those em- 
bracing arms. Beyond, over the broad belt of darkening 
ocean, the sun was just dipping into the bar of cloud, 
leaving a flame upon the sky. 

“ We must wait and see the last of it,” said he upon 
the grass suddenly, and the other nodded. 

Up and up breathlessly crept the light. On the patch 
of bracken in the hollow, rallying round a spur of rock, 
flying for a fresh stand across a shaly slope, so holding 
its own for an instant against a scarp, driven over the 
ledge! Ned’s hand went out to touch it, but found it 
behind him; so, turning swiftly he saw the last flicker 
of sunlight resting, ere final flight, on a yellow placard — 

‘ ‘ Ginger beer, 6d. ’ ’ 

He started to his feet. “ Damn it all! ” he cried, 
“ fancy finding that ultimate sixpence here! ” 

‘ ‘ Sixpence ? ’ ’ queried Ted, rousing himself from a day 
dream. “ Ah! I was thinking of the hundred pounds 

you left over yonder. It really is d d rot, you know. 

What’s to hinder my claiming it — well — ^say to-morrow 
morning? ” 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY I9 

“ YouVe time now if you wish it,” assented Ned, 
“ and if the thunderstorm ” 

As he spoke there came a quiver of light far out over 
the hidden sea. It seemed to come from below the 
threshold of the visible world, like the sudden gleams 
from the beyond, which, at times, irradiate the mind of 
man with some infinite message. 

Ted turned round startled at the greyness that was 
fast settling down on hill and sky. “We had better get 
down as sharp as we can,” he cried hastily, taking his 
bearings. “ I think if we try to the left a little we shall 
get down the rocky part before dusk makes going diffi- 
cult. ^ ’ 

Once again, however, the short cut proved the longer 
way. The path grew more and more hopeless, until after 
scrambling down an almost precipitous corrie they found 
themselves brought up on a jutting spur, by a thirty feet 
drop as the only onward way. 

“ It’s — it’s ” muttered Ted, as he satisfied himself 

they must go back. 

“ Worth it,” remarked Ned; for the jag of rock on 
wffiich he stood overhung a wilderness of grey shadow and 
grey water ; the grey hills watching the grey water recede 
from the shores, leaving behind it still greyer patches of 
sand that rose roundly from the level reaches of the 
ebbing tide. 

He stood, long after Ted had started upward, watching 
also, and thinking how like these billowy sand-banks were 
to a drowned woman’s clothes. Some goddess of the 
earth, surely, lay dead there, her body compassed by the 
hills. 

^ ‘ I say ! Aren ’t you coming ? ’ ’ came his companion ’s 
shout. “ We haven’t time to lose. Look there ! ” 

A vivid flash of lightning shot beyond the deep bank 
into the rolling clouds that were coming up swiftly with 
the rising wind ; and, more quickly than one would have 
expected, a low mutter of thunder caught the crags in 
monotonous echoes. 

“Go on! I’ll soon catch you up,” shouted Ned in 


20 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


return. And he did so ; for there was a lightness, a cer- 
tain stress of action about his every movement which dif- 
ferentiated him from his companion’s more deliberate 
steadiness. 

The wind rose at every gust, and in the fast growing 
dusk, the sheep sought shelter behind rocks and boulders 
for the night. 

Yet still the downward path could not be found. 

“ We had best follow the stream yonder,” said Ned at 
last. ‘ ‘ It will be longer, but it will take us down eventu- 
ally, and I don’t want to camp out with my pipe in that 
storm. ’ ’ 

The first drop or two of rain emphasised his advice; 
but it was no easy task to follow it with the mist closing 
in on all sides. Then darkness came, bringing a perfect 
deluge with it. They could scarcely see the stones at their 
feet, except when, with the sudden summer lightning, the 
whole world of hill and dale and sea was revealed to them 
for a second, then shut out again as if in obedience to the 
immediate roll-call of the thunder. 

But they were young, and it was soft, warm rain; 
so, with many a slip and tumble, and many a laugh, 
they made way somehow, pausing at length to leeward 
of a large rock to light a fresh pipe and look at the 
time. 

“Half past ten!” exclaimed Ted, “ who’d have 
thought it! ” He spoke joyously, for his pulses were 
bounding with the vitality due to the exercise of mind 
and body. 

“ I should,” replied Ned; “I’m beastly hungry. 
However ” — here a brilliant flash gave them the world 
again, “ I believe that’s the bottom down there.” 

The vision of a stream in flood surging through a low- 
lying wooded valley not far beneath them, was certainly 
the bottom, but it was nearer twelve o ’clock than eleven 
ere they found level footfall, and that only on the brink 
of the stream. 

To cross, or not to cross became the question. They 
referred it to the next flash of lightning ; a long wait in 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


21 


the darkness, for the storm was passing, the rain had 
ceased. 

When it came, it showed them an oasis of field, a clump 
of trees, and something amongst them which might or 
might not be a human habitation. The point was settled, 
however, the next moment by the sudden twinkle of a 
wandering light quite close on the other side. It stopped 
dead at their view halloo, then retreated, evidently at a 
run, to reappear, nevertheless, almost immediately in 
company with a remonstrant voice, clear, pleasant, 
decided. 

“ Boggles! ” it said. “ There ainT no sech things as 
boggles! I’ve told ’ee so a dozen times, Adam, and I 
won’t ’ave it said. So there! ” 

“ Why, Martha, woman, I’m none fur sayin’ ’twas 
boggles, fur sure, it might ’a bin a screech howl, but — 
Lud ’elp us! — what’s that? ” 

The light was evidently snatched at and held aloft. 
Then it came forward a step, and the voice rose in angry 
scorn. 

“ Get yer gone, you lazy, good-f or-nothin ’ Welsh 
libe’tynes. I tell you she’s gone, and right glad was I 
to get quit o’ her. An impident lass, that friv’lous, her 
’ead wouldn ’t ’old nothing but you young sparks. ’ ’ 

“ I beg your pardon,” called Ned, interrupting the 
flow of wrath, “ but we have lost our way, and being 
drenched through, want to know ” 

‘‘ Well, I never! ” came the voice, its owner grasping 
the situation at once. ‘ ‘ Here, Adam, man, take the light 
an’ show the gentle folk across the ford, an’ I’ll just run 
back and see to things.” 

Five minutes later, escorted by an apple-cheeked man 
of about fifty, they were entering a cottage where the 
fire had evidently been newly brushed up, a kettle put 
on, and a few hurried touches added to already existing 
tidiness by an apple-faced woman forty or thereabouts. 

She bobbed them a truly primeval curtsey. 

‘ ‘ Dear sakes, gentlemen, you must be through to your 
vests. Adam, set a cheer for the gentle folks, man. 


22 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


Adam and me was just after the hi’fer, sir, she’s down 
calvin’, an’ they lays like lead on me till it’s over, that 
they do. An’ Adam is such a heavy sleeper, but there! 
Two of a sort can’t live together, no, they can’t.” 

This calm, philosophic treatment of him, brought a 
half -conscious giggle from Adam, and she passed on to 
treat of other subjects in like manner. “ The village, 
h’m, not much of a place for sleepin’ in, an’ a good mile 
anyhow, with the bridge locked. Better a hayloft to 
yourself than some of them cottages. As for supper, 
they wouldn’t get nothin’ fit for gentle folk to eat. She 
could see what she’d got, an’ meanwhile Adam’d show 
them the loft, and bring ’em over pillows an’ blankets; 
they’d dry easy in the hay, while the clothes hung ’andy 
on the rafters, or Adam could bring ’em back to the fire 
when he tuk over supper, not but what it was perhaps 
better to ’ave somethin’ to put on in case o’ fire! ” 

A quarter of an hour afterwards, having made a most 
excellent meal of cold beefsteak pie and tea, which, they 
were assured, was ‘ ‘ better to keep a chill off than beer, ’ ’ 
they duly put out the lantern, with which they had been 
bidden “to be real careful because of the yay,” and 
listened to the clear, dispassionate voice saying, as its 
owner passed the loft — 

“ You go ter yer bed, Adam, an’ sleep while you can. 
She ’s passed midnight, and it wunt come now till dawn ; 
but I ain’t the mind to sleep. They lies too heavy, poor 
dears. ’ ’ 

“ That woman,” said Ned, from his blanketed bed in 
the hay, “ ought to have been a Field Marshal or a 
Prime Minister.” 

There was absolute conviction in his voice. 


CHAPTER III 


They found the summer sun had been at work for some 
hours on the storm-drenched world ere they woke to the 
lowing roar of the heifer from the neighbouring cow- 
house. Motherhood had evidently come to her at dawn, 
bringing its wider outlook, its larger self; and sure 
enough, when they scrambled down from the loft, they 
found at the foot of the ladder, penned in by an old 
door, a big, black bull-calf lustily answering anxiety by 
assertion. 

The cottage over against them, however, — it formed 
part of a long range of farm-steadings, which stretched 
right away to the stream they had crossed the night 
before — ^showed no sign of life. The door was closed, 
the window-blinds down; the inmates were most likely 
sleeping sound after their broken rest. 

So, their clothes being still damp, the two young men 
went up stream to a long, deep pool, and spreading them 
out to dry in the hot sunshine, had a morning bath, 
thereinafter drying themselves in the same fashion on 
a grassy bank, whence, looking up the valley, they could 
see the mountains closing in on the narrow strip of level 
pasture. Behind them, the downward view was abso- 
lutely shut out by the farm-buildings, above which 
showed a yew tree, and by a dense clump of rhododen- 
drons, which trended away until it met the other wooded 
hillside of the little glen. 

“ I believe we are really on an island,’’ remarked 
Ted, critically appraising the values of some willows and 
elders which, higher up beyond the pasture fields, seemed 
to betoken another channel of water. 

‘ ^ A desert island, ’ ’ said Ned, busy over the intricacies 
23 


24 


A SOYEREIGN REMEDY 


of cold water and a razor from his shoulder-wallet. 
“We are reduced to the makeshifts of primitive man- 
hood. What more do we want? — and all without that 
hundred pounds! I never slept better than I did in 
that hay. 

“ Small blame to you with feather pillows and best 
Whitney blankets 1 And as for money — we shall have to 
tip these people. I suppose half-a-crown will do ” 

“ Ahem,” replied Ned somewhat doubtfully; “ but it 
was beastly late, you know.” 

“ Very; but that wasn’t our doing: they were up 
with the ‘ hi’fer.’ However, let’s put it at three shil- 
lings. ’ ’ 

“ But, my dear fellow, consider the beefsteak pie — 
it was simply the best pie ” 

“ Charge it to appetite,” said Ted, rising ready 
dressed, supple, clean, and strong. “ Three shillings is 
ample. Come along if you’re ready, and let us get off. 
I ’m keen to start. ’ ’ 

He looked it; but the starting was not so easy, for 
though on trial the door of the cottage was found to be 
on the latch only, no one could be made to hear. 

“ Let’s leave the tip on the table,” suggested Ted 
impatiently. 

“ My dear fellow,” replied Ned, “ I won’t go with- 
out seeing the ^ General,’ and thanking her for that 
excellent pie. Besides — think how she simply scooped us 
up last night like half -drowned kittens and set us going 
again ! I tell you,- sir, that if — it being Saturday night 
— she had suggested washing my head, I’d have sub- 
mitted meekly, as I used with old nurse. Why 1 I dreamt 
about frilled drawers all last night! ” 

Ted was irresponsive; a word had arrested his at- 
tention. “ Saturday! ” he echoed thoughtfully, “ then 
to-day is Sunday ! ’ ’ 

“ First Sunday after Whitsun — No ! Trinity Sunday, 
of course, the shortest night in the year and Midsummer 
Night’s Dream all combined. How time flies. ...” 

“ What luck! ” gloomed Ted. “ I shouldn’t wonder 


A SOVEHEIGN REMEDY 25 

if the smith were to refuse us our cycles — they are like 
that in these wild parts — what beastly bad luck ! ’ ’ 

Here Ned, who had been prospecting at the back of the 
passage, opened a door, suspecting it to be possibly a 
coal-cellar; but he fell back from the sudden blaze of 
almost blinding sunlight which poured in from a long, 
low, absolutely empty room, which stretched away on 
either side over boards scrubbed to whiteness to a wide 
oriel window. 

At that on the left-hand side stood a parrot-perch, 
beside which was a tall girl in blue engaged in making a 
white cockatoo with a yellow crest talk. 

“ Gimme a sixpence,” it muttered hurriedly as the 
bit of banana turned away with the girl at the inter- 
ruption. 

So for a second or two they stood ; the two young men 
smitten helpless by the extreme beauty of that girlish 
figure, framed as it was by the great sprays of white 
June clematis and great trusses of scarlet ivy geranium 
from the garden beyond the window. 

“ Gimme a sixpence, gimme a sixpence,” reiterated 
the cockatoo in guttural allurement. Then the girl 
smiled. 

“ You must have been very wet last night, I’m 
afraid,” she said in an absolutely perfect voice, true, 
pure, sweet; the real voice of the siren, which none who 
hear forget. 

The two at the door, who stood bare-headed, almost 
doubting the evidence of their own eyes, gave an audible 
sigh of relief. This was no vision then, this beauty of 
womanhood pure, and simple, with softly smiling eyes. 

And yet? They glanced at each other doubtfully, and 
the three shillings in Ted’s palm seemed suddenly to 
become hot and scorch him. Impossible to offer three 
shillings to perfection ! 

Thank you, yes — I mean no — I mean that we were 
wet, quite wet — but now thanks to the kindness of 
your ” Ned paused. Much as he admired “ the Gen- 

eral,” he could not affiliate to her this radiant creature. 


26 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


Ted, becoming conscious vaguely that here was some- 
thing new to him, something which held possible danger 
to his outlook in life, remembered his hurry and came 
to the point. 

“We are very much obliged, and so, if you please, as 
we are about to start, we should like — I mean if you 

Here absolute terror lest Ted should really offer those 
three shillings to the glorious creature in the first flush 
of a womanhood which seemed to Ned to be worth the 
whole world, made him step forward, holding out a shin- 
ing sovereign. 

“ We’ve really been most awfully comfortable,” he 
said apologetically, “ and if you — if you wouldn’t mind 
giving this ” 

“ Why! ” she exclaimed, all eagerness, snatching at 
the coin, “ I believe it’s a sovereign! Fancy that! A 
whole sovereign! ” 

Ned felt outraged at her indecent haste; and at the 
back of Ted’s brain lay an instant regret concerning the 
three shillings ; he would then only have been responsible 
for one and sixpence instead of ten shillings. 

Suddenly she held the coin up to the window, laughed 
— a rippling laugh like running water — and handed it 
back again. “ Thanks for letting me see it; I hadn’t 
seen one before, but, as grandfather says, it blocks the 
sunlight just like a penny! ” 

“You — you hadn’t seen a sovereign!” said Ned 
feebly. 

She shook her head. “We don’t have money in this 
house. Grandfather doesn’t hold with it.” 

“ Not hold with it! ” echoed Ted argumentatively. 
‘ ‘ But you must — you must pay your debts ; and we want 
to pay ours.” 

Her face grew serious. ‘ ‘ Ah ! you want to pay some- 
thing. That’s Martha’s business. Here! Martha! 
These gentlemen want to pay you a sovereign. ’ ’ 

At an inner door the figure of “ the General ” ap- 
peared with floury arms and her prim bob curtsey. 

“ Hope the hi’fer didn’t disturb of you, gentlemen,” 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


27 


she said cheerfully; “ but really there ain’t nothing 
owin’, let alone a sovereign’s worth.” 

“ But there must be something; and we tried to find 
you before, but you were asleep,” protested Ned in an 
aggrieved tone. 

‘ ‘ Asleep ! Lord save us ! ” laughed Martha. ‘ ‘ Why ! 
Adam bein’ that sound after the calvin’, I was over to 
the loft myself three times afore I come in to my stove. 
But there ain’t nothin’. The yay was ’ome grown, and 
welcome, seeing ’twas but beddin ’ stuff at best, and none 
spoilt for use by humans sleepin ’ on it. ” A faint chuckle 
showed her sense of superiority. 

“ But there was the beefsteak pie,” began Ned. 

Martha’s giggle increased. “ ’Twouldn’t never ’ave 
kep’ sweet over Sunday, sir, so the pigs ’ud ’ave ’ad it 
if you gentlemen ’adn’t.” 

That was an unanswerable argument. 

“ Will you please take it back,” said the girl im- 
periously, holding the gold out in the easy clasp of her 
finger and thumb. 

“ But there was the tea — and the pillows and the 
blankets,” protested Ted severely. 

She turned on him swiftly. ‘ ‘ Don ’t you hear Martha 
doesn’t want it, and I don’t want it. So if you don’t 
want it also, we ’d better give it to Cockatua, for I ’m tired 
of holding it. Here, Cockatua, is a golden sovereign 
for you.” 

The bird’s great yellow crest rose with greed as it 
grabbed at the prize, but fell again at its first hasty bite. 
The beady black eyes showed distrust; it turned the 
coin round, and bit at it again; then again. Finally, 
with a guttural murmur of “ Gimme a sixpence,” it 
dropped the sovereign deliberately into its bread and 
milk tin. 

Every one laughed, Martha, however, checking herself 
with a hasty “ Drat them scones; they’ll be burnt as 
black as the back o’ the grate,” and disappearing whence 
she came, her voice calling back in warning to Miss Aura, 
not to forget the master’s message. 


28 


A SOVEREIQl^ REMEDY 


“ Aura? ” questioned Ned quickly. That’s not a 
very appropriate ” 

‘ ‘ My name is Aurelia, ’ ’ she said quite frankly, ‘ ‘ and 
the message is that grandfather would like you to break- 
fast with him. I think you had better,” she added still 
more frankly, “ for you mightn’t get anything in the 
village. It’s Sunday, you know.” 

They glanced at each other mechanically, though each 
had decided to accept the invitation. So she led them 
through the kitchen, where Martha was bustling about 
over her stove, into a hall. This further house had evi- 
dently been joined on to the back of the cottage by the 
long room in which the cockatoo lived. 

“We breakfast in the verandah,” said Aurelia, turn- 
ing to the left into a large low-roofed room, lined from 
floor to ceiling with books, but containing no other fur- 
niture save a chair and a writing-table. 

The glimpse afforded by the open hall-door showed them 
that Ted’s surmise had been correct. They were on an 
island, for to the right of the garden a stream, after dash- 
ing over some rocks, disappeared behind the high wall en- 
closing the orchard which filled up the end of the valley, 
while, as they passed on through the book room, a lawn 
lay before them sloping down to a deep, still pool, a pool 
shadowed by surely the biggest yew-tree they had ever 
seen. Its great arms spread themselves out, and, bowed 
to earth by their own weight, found a fresh foothold for 
another upward spring, until the one tree seemed a grove. 

Here in a sunny square formed by the joining of 
house and steading walls, they found a breakfast-table, 
and beside it, in an arm-chair, an old man with a thin 
face and Florentine-cut, silver-white hair. 

“ Excuse my rising, gentlemen,” he said in a high, 
suave voice, his nervous hands gripping the chair-arms 
in rather a helpless fashion, “ but I am somewhat — 
more or less — of a cripple at times — I suffer from rheu- 
matism, and last night’s rain ” 

“ Might have made us rheumatic also but for your 
kindness,” began Ned politely. 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


29 


‘ ‘ Not at all ! Not at all — ^IVIartha does all that sort of 
thing well — an excellent creature — really an excellent 
creature, but alas! quite devoid of intelligence,’’ said 
their host, and his large, restless, pale blue eyes which, 
from the smallness of his other features, dominated his 
face, took on a remonstrant expression that was curiously 
obstinate yet weak. “ Yes! ” he continued, “ absolutely 
devoid of brains. One of those hewers of wood and 
drawers of water by desire and determination who stand 
so — so infernally — in the way of true socialistic develop- 
ment. But, by the way I am forgetting to introduce my- 
self. I am Sylvanus Smith, President — ^but stay ! 

Aurelia, my child, fetch the Syllabus of the Socialistic 
Congress from my writing-table; that will be the best 
introduction. And here comes Martha with, I presume, 
breakfast. We generally have a parlourmaid, but ” — 
the remonstrant expression came to his face again — 

Martha is somewhat hard on maids. She — she doesn’t 
believe in perfect freedom of soul and body, so the last 
left yesterday in — in a flame of fire ! The young men of 
the village ” 

Ned laughed. “We know about that, sir; we were 
taken last night for “ lazy good-f or-nothin ’ Welsh li- 
bertynes.’ ” 

Mr. Sylvanus Smith appeared shocked. “ I really 
must speak to Martha, ’ ’ he said in an undertone, adding 
aloud, “ Well, Martha, what have you there? ” 

The question was provoked by the setting down of a 
silver dish among the fruits, nuts, and other vegetarian 
diets on the table, and there was a certain tremulous 
authority in it. 

The subservience of Martha ’s bob was phenomenal. 

“ Bacin an’ eggs, sir, an’ there’s more ter follow if 
required. ’ ’ 

The authority dissolved into an ill-assured cough. 

“ As a rule,” remarked Mr. Smith helplessly, “ we 
do not allow meat ” 

“ But lor! sir,” put in Martha, beaming, “ wasn’t it 
jest a Providence as me and Adam had left that bit o’ 


A SOYE REIGN REMEDY 


beefsteak pie, seeing that strawberries an’ sech like are 
but cold comforts to stummicks as has bin drenched 
through by storm. ’ ’ 

There could be no reply but acquiescence to this prop- 
osition, so the strangers began on the bacon and eggs. 
Mr. Sylvanus Smith breakfasted olf some patent food, 
and Aurelia ate strawberries and brown bread, and drank 
milk; they seemed to have got into her complexion and 
hair — at least so thought Ned. 

The clematis wreaths, the great bosses of the scarlet 
geraniums hung round them, the great yew-tree shot out 
fingers of shadow claiming the lawn and actually touch- 
ing one of the jewelled fiower-beds, while behind these, 
tall larkspurs and lychnis, their feet hidden in a wilder- 
ness of bright blossom, rose up against the rows of peas 
and raspberries in the kitchen garden, and the green of 
young apples in the orchard. 

Against this paradise of fiower and fruit they saw 
Aurelia, like any Eve, beautiful, healthful, gracious, 
smiling; and they lost both their hearts and their heads 
promptly — for the time being, at any rate. 

They looked at her by stealth in the long silences 
which were perforce the fate of Mr. Sylvanus Smith’s 
guests, for he could talk, and talk as he wrote well, of the 
future of Socialism, and the happiness of the many, ob- 
livious altogether of the happiness or unhappiness, of 
the few that was being worked out in his immediate 
neighbourhood. That did not trouble him in the least. 

Whether from happiness or unhappiness, past, pres- 
ent, or to come, the two young men were singu- 
larly silent as, after being piloted by Adam through the 
rhododendrons and across the drawbridge, they left the 
island paradise behind them. 

“ That w’as a beautiful garden,” said Ted. 

“ Very,” remarked Ned. 

Then they were silent again; but they thought per- 
sistently of Aurelia, of her beauty, her unworldliness, 
her curious frank dignity, and the shrewd common-sense 
she had shown in every word she uttered. 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


31 


The road to the village led through a wood at first; a 
wood — as such Welsh mountain woods are at Midsum- 
mer — all lush with fern and bramble and great drifts of 
foxglove envious of each other’s height, and holding their 
heads higher upon the narrowing clefts, until some very- 
ordinary spike, gaining a vantage of rock, out-tops the 
rest, and so lords it over all. 

Then, after a while, the wooded slopes closed in to 
rock. Here the divided streams rejoined each other with 
a quick babble of recognition, and, as if out of sheer 
good spirits, gave a gladsome leap or two ere settling 
down to race hand in hand through a ravine but a few 
feet below the curving road. 

Finally a precipitous bluff blocked the view, but round 
this at a sharp turn Ted paused. 

‘‘ Hullo! ” he said. “ Why, here we are again! ” 

They were at the bridge by the cross-roads where they 
had parted with Dr. Ramsay the day before. On the bare 
hillside stood the school, deserted this Sunday morning ; 
below them lay the village. Over yonder was hidden 
the hundred pounds of floating deposit — (Ted’s eyes 
sought this out immediately.) Over there, still shrug- 
ging that high shoulder of his in the sunshine, was 
Llwggd-y-Brydd disclaiming — so Ned thought — all re- 
sponsibility for their last night’s adventure. A real 
Midsummer Eve’s dream, indeed! And to-night? — Mid- 
summer night — would the adventure continue? 

“ It was two o’clock, was it, he said, for dinner? ” 
asked Ted irrelevantly. He knew the hour perfectly, 
but he wanted to discuss the question. 

‘ ‘ Two o ’clock if the cycles couldn ’t be got, ’ ’ corrected 
Ned gravely. 

‘‘ Of course,” replied Ted impatiently, and we will 
go and ask ” 

Ned suddenly burst out laughing. ‘‘ Why the deuce 
should we ask? You’d rather dine and so would I. 
That ’s simplicity itself ; besides, we can go to church or 
chapel and confess the sin of omission meanwhile — if 
you like.” 


32 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


Ted looked at him with gloomy virtue. ‘‘ Of course 
we must ask — at any rate I shall, ’ ’ he replied haughtily. 
He felt in his way exactly as his companion did, that 
is, as if every atom of life in him had been stirred to 
its depths; but conventional morality and solid fact 
meant more to him than they did to Ned. 

The smith, mercifully, was kind. It had been too 
late to finish repairs on Saturday; they must wait over 
till Monday. 

So, in a blissful state of relief, they sat on the bridge 
parapet again and watched the country folk come in to 
chapel. 

“ The Calvinists take the cake in dress,” remarked 
Ned. ‘ ‘ Half the big drapery shops in Blackborough be- 
long to them, I’m told, and they give a percentage to 
their assistants. So I expect Miss — what’s her name? — 
Jones is responsible for half the hats here. Ye gods ! what 
a superstructure for one soul ! ” As he spoke he watched 
a carrotty-haired girl with a brick-red burnt face, who 
wore, both inside and outside a leghorn hat, a wreath of 
crushed roses shaded from beetroot to carrots. 

“ Myfanwy,” said Ted lightly, “ is equal to the bur- 
den. Here she comes with the parson, and Miss Alicia 
has the beauty-boy Mervjm. How happy could both be 
with either — I wonder how they grow those curls. ’ ’ 

He spoke with lazy scorn; but by and by the sound 
of part-singing instinct with swing and go roused him, 
for he had sung in a choir all his life, and, after vainly 
trying to persuade Ned to accompany him, he went off to 
listen, leaving the latter stretched out full length on the 
parapet watching for invisible trout. 

After a time, however, the old churchyard in its turn 
attracted Ned’s lazy interest, and he strolled off to ex- 
amine the tombstones. They stood cheek by jowl, and 
to judge by the dates on many, must represent a perfect 
battlefield of dead, if all the parish came thither to rest. 
Some lettering over a low round arch of a sunk door in 
the church arrested him. Fourteen hundred and fifty- 
two ! No wonder the place looked ruinous, and that he 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


33 


had to step down into the porch ! Here his eye took in 
various framed regulations in red and black, signed 
‘‘ Gawain Meredith, Rector.’^ Evidently the Reverend 
Gawain was high. And was that a smell of incense ? 

He set aside the curtain, and stood under the organ- 
loft. Here surprise held him motionless. Everything 
was so new, so gilded, so flawless. There was a blaze 
of red and white on the altar, before which a tall figure 
in red and white attended by two acolytes, knelt read- 
ing the ante-communion service. From them, scat- 
tered sparsely over regulation oak benches, was a sur- 
pliced choir, four boys on either side coming down, as it 
were, to meet a huge brass lectern and a red embroidered 
faldstool. 

But the congregation? Six or seven may be in dark 
corners, or rather since some one must play the organ, 
eight! No! for the celebrant, after giving out a hymn, 
strode to a harmonium close to the pulpit, and therein- 
after, upborne by his strong baritone, a long-drawn sac- 
ramental chant wavered in the aisles, and died away in 
the rafters of the roof. 

What then of the organ? Ned turned, crept up the 
stair without waking an old man — ^the bell-ringer no 
doubt — who was asleep in his long-accustomed seat be- 
side the blow-handle, and found himself before the usual 
red-curtain screen. Seating himself on the organ stool 
he looked out, unseen, on the church below. 

It was quaint. There was the Reverend Gawain in 
the pulpit giving out his text, “ There came a mighty 
rushing wind,’’ and looking out over his church as if 
it had been full instead of empty. 

There were some, said the preacher, who expected 
signs and wonders direct from the Almighty, but the 
great rushing mighty wind was the teaching of the 
Church which had begun on Whit Sunday and would go 
on throughout the year. It was a mighty voice, indeed, 
sounding in the ears of all his parishioners, even those 
who were absent. And it spoke through him, their 
priest, responsible to the Church for the soul of every 


34 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


man, woman, and child, in the parish of Dinas. Seven 
minutes, by Ned’s watch, of unbounded authority, of 
absolute priesthood, of the Middle Ages. Ned, watching 
the dignity of the Reverend Gawain Meredith’s denial of 
the passage of Time became admiring. And he was such 
a fine figure of a man. The old type, chief, medicine 
man, Druid, Archbishop — Archangel if you will — always 
the same, in all ages. 

Ned wandered oif into thoughts such as men of his 
type have had since the beginning of time, and was 
roused from them by seeing the priest, holding a huge 
sacrificial brass platter, awaiting the sheepish sidesman 
at the chancel steps. 

By all that was holy ! — one penny — only one, the sides- 
man ’s own ; but its poverty was covered the next instant 
by the Rector’s sovereign. Well done to the Rector! 

What an imagination, what a magnificent make-be- 
lieve. Something in Ned’s innermost soul leapt up to 
meet this escape from deadly reality. It deserved a 
recognition. Yes! as the man couldn’t play himself out 
of church, he would — the organ was there ! 

In sudden impulse he laid an awakening hand on the 
drowsy sexton. “ Blow! ” he whispered strenuously. 

Blow, I tell you, for all you’re worth.” 

The man, half-asleep, obeyed; Ned opened the key- 
board, and not knowing his instrument put on full dia- 
pason. Thus, when the last Amen had echoed out from 
the Rector, for the choir appeared to be dummies, and 
the cope and the brass platter began to follow the little 
white surplices, the whole procession paused in amaze- 
ment, as, with many a note dumb, many a dissonance 
overborne by the full burst of sound, Handel’s ‘‘ Lift 
up your heads, oh! ye gates,” crashed into every corner 
of the old church. Crashed for the first two bars, then, 
the pressure on leaky bellows yielding, wavered and sank. 

Ned, realising his failure, was down the loft stairs, 
through the graves, and over the back of the churchyard 
wall, where he lay convulsed with inextinguishable 
laughter at his own mad prank, before curiosity followed 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


35 


the amazement in the church as the last breath of air 
escaped in a long-drawn pipe from a stuck note in the 
treble. 

It was some time ere, seeing the chapel folk coming out, 
he made his way round at the back of the Rectory wood 
and joined Ted, whom he found enthusiastic about the 
singing, and glad to have heard the Reverend Morris 
Pugh^s “ hwl,’^ the bardic note. It was really rather 
impressive, that constant iteration of the A-flat, and even 
to one ignorant of Welsh gave a feeling of something 
being desperately wrong, of something needing desper- 
ately to be set right. 

But there had been no outpouring — ^nothing out of 
the common. 

‘‘You should have ” said Ned, and paused. 

“ What? ’’ asked Ted. 

“ Nothing, except that it must be about time for us 
to be going back — to Paradise! ’’ 


CHAPTER IV 


Aurelia in a blessed white frock, looking like a Botti- 
celli angel, was in the garden talking to old Adam. She 
received their half-hearted apologies for return with a 
fine superiority. 

“ Of course,’’ she said, “ we all knew you were com- 
ing. Martha was unkind enough to kill a beautiful 
white chicken for you, and there is raspberry tart, and 
curds and cream. Oh yes! and I made a sponge-cake 
for tea. So you ought to have enough I’m sure. Now, 
before we go in, I do want to find my Ourisia coccinea, 
and Adam has mislaid it. Now, Adam, do think! and 
please don’t say the underground mice have eaten the 
label, for I’m sure they haven’t — it would be a miracle, 
you know, if they did.” 

Here she turned to her companions with shining eyes. 

“You see, Adam believes in boggles and miracles, and 
all sorts of queer things, though he isn’t Welsh. And 
to-day there was a miracle in church.” 

“ A miracle,” echoed Ned, fiushing slightly and won- 
dering more. 

She nodded. “Yes! The organ that hasn’t sounded 
a note for ever so long, played of itself, or rather Grif- 
fiths Morgan, the sexton, says he was awoke by the Arch- 
angel Gabriel.” 

“ Nonsense,” interrupted Ned with spirit, “ it — it 
couldn’t have been ” 

“ That is what Adam says,” replied Aurelia smiling. 
‘ ‘ Adam ! tell the story yourself. ’ ’ 

“ ’Twain ’t much story. Miss Aura,” put in the old 
gardener, “ but ’twas how as this. Rector he bin 
preechin’ of the roarin’, rushin’ wynd, an’ as he coombed 

36 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


37 


down the chauntrey steps, as might be the Pope o’ Rome 
with that there brass platter, it let loose quite suddint. 
A wynd, indeed, a rushin’ and roarin’, an’ heavenly 
notes all a-dyin’ away to twanks like the last Trump. 
Folks were greatly put about, even passon himself didn ’t 
know what to make on’t till Griffiths Morgan, as sleeps 
on the heller’s ’andle through being accustomed to it as 
a lad, said he was woke and bid blow by the Archangel 
Gabriel. Whereupon passon give it ’im for sleepin’, and 
says as he must a’ laid on the notes somehow; but I 
says, says I, that nothin ’ but true miracle ’ud ever make 
the broken-wynded old orgin’ give out seeh a rare ’ol- 
lerin ’. ’ ’ 

“ But there’s no such thing as a miracle, Adam,” de- 
clared the girl, and the next moment was on her knees 
peering into an aster patch. ‘‘ Why, there it is,” she 
cried, “ Oh! Adam, how could you? ” 

Adam stooped over the border in simulated astonish- 
ment. 

Why, drat my garters ” (this was his most extreme 
form of words) . So be it. Well, miss, ’tis true miracle 
how that pr’anniel stuff comes up, libel or no. ’Tis the 
Lord ’s doings, as don ’t call ’em by name, see you. ’ ’ 

‘‘ But Adam did,” said Ned, relieved as the necessity 
for confessing that he was not the Archangel Gabriel 
vanished before this change of venue. 

What Adam? ” asked Aura. “Oh! I suppose you 
mean the one in the Bible, only grandfather doesn’t be- 
lieve in it, you know. It couldn ’t, anyhow, be this one, ’ ’ 
she continued, her eyes shining with laughter once more 
as they moved across the lawn, leaving Adam shaking 
his head over the Ourisia coccinea, “ for when he digs 
my borders he begins by collecting all the tallies into a 
heap ; then he puts them back again at regular intervals 
in a row. It’s very funny, you know, but terribly con- 
fusing. Each spring I have to rack my brains to think 
what each dear thing means as it peeps up. Of course, 
that is interesting in itself, but ” — ^here her eyes grew 
clearer, lighter as she looked up for sympathy — “ it is 


38 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


rather sad to make mistakes. I don’t like dreaming a 
campanula is white when it is blue, blue when it is 
white. ’ ’ 

“ I think one is as beautiful as the other,” laughed 
Ted. 

Yes! ” — then her eyes sought Ned’s — but it is 
hard, always, to lose what one has learnt to expect. ’ ’ 

He smiled back at her but said nothing. 

So as they strolled over the grass, she, every now and 
again giving them a glimpse of the secluded busy life 
she led (for she and her grandfather never went into 
the village except, perhaps, to judge at some competi- 
tion concert) the bell rang, and crossing to the verandah 
they found Mr. Sylvanus Smith less crippled as the day 
went on, but urbane and talkative as ever, while Martha, 
with her little bob curtsey, was waiting to take olf the 
covers. 

And they feasted like kings on the chicken and rasp- 
berry tart; and the weak rough cider which Martha 
made, and Mr. Smith drank for his rheumatism, seemed 
to get into their heads with the Wine of Life, as they sat 
and talked and watched Aurelia against the background 
of flower and fruit. 

Oh! cupbearer! save the Wine of Life, what gifts 
canst thou bring? ” quoted Ned suddenly under his 
breath. 

“ A fine poet Hafiz — a very fine poet,” remarked Syl- 
vanus Smith, who appeared to have read and remembered 
most things, “ but he lacks the true human spirit. He 
fuddles himself into content with mystic unrealities, and 
misses the great individual claim of each soul to freedom 
and equality. So unlike Byron. ’ ’ 

‘‘ Very,” assented Ned dryly. 

Still the conversation did not languish, and when din- 
ner was over they adjourned to another large room op- 
posite the library, which was also empty of all things 
save a grand piano, an arm-chair, and a music rest. Here 
Ned settled himself down to accompany Ted and Aura as 
they sang, and finally, with apologies, for not being so 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


39 


much at home on the piano as on the organ, persuaded 
Mr. Sylvanus Smith, who turned out to be a passed mu- 
sician, into trying a Brahms sonata for piano and violin. 
And here Martha coming to announce tea found them 
still happily busy over the great piles of music that were 
ranged along the wall. 

It was when Ned lingered to close the piano that Aura 
lingered also watching him quietly; but she made him 
start and blush violently by saying with a smile, “You 
were the Archangel Gabriel, weren’t you? ” 

Taken aback as he was, his eyes met hers with a reflec- 
tion of their confidence. ‘ ‘ I was. But how did you find 
out? ” 

‘ ‘ I don ’t know, ’ ’ she said, a faint trouble coming into 
her face, ‘ ‘ that is the worst of it. It was when we were 
running through the Messiah, something in your mind 
touched mine, I think. It happens sometimes, doesn’t it? 
— and — and it isn’t altogether pleasant.” 

She drew herself away from him instinctively, but he 
followed her. 

“ Why? ” he asked. 

She flashed round on him. “ Because I dislike being 
touched. ’ ’ 

There was a silence ; finally he asked curiously, ‘ ‘ Ought 
I to tell Adam? ” 

“ Why should you ? He loves miracles, and it will give 
him something to talk about, besides ” — here she laughed 
— “ it was a miracle, you know, to make the old organ 
sound at all.” 

‘ ‘ Perhaps, ’ ’ replied Ned, relieved of the necessity for 
confessing one of the many sudden impulses which were 
always getting him into trouble. 

They found Martha by the tea-table looking very 
rakish and young in a coat and skirt and a sailor hat, 
which, however, did not prevent her from, as usual, mask- 
ing her supremacy by subserviency. The gentlemen’s 
rooms were quite ready for them, and as she was going 
through the village could she leave any message with the 
smith ? 


40 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


‘ ‘ Thanks, no ! ” replied Ted curtly, for he had noticed 
Aura’s confidence with Ned, and had — he scarcely had 
time to think why — resented it ; “ but, I think, Crutten- 
den, that if we do avail ourselves of Mr. Smith’s kindly 
offered hospitality, we must start at dawn, picking up our 
bicycles by the way. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ As you please, Ted, ’ ’ replied Ned carelessly. ‘ ‘ But 
thanks all the same, Martha. I hope there will be no 
more miracles in church.” 

‘ ‘ Thank you, sir, ’ ’ retorted Martha cheerfully, ‘ ‘ but I 
don’t ’old with church nor yet with chapel neither. As 
I keep tellin’ of Adam, they makes people think too much 
of their sins. An’ ’is is but what we cooks call second 
stock at that, sir; for takin’ ’im, fine an’ wet, Adam do ’is 
work like a real Briton — yes ! he really do ’ ’ 

With which testimonial to Adam’s worth she bobbed 
another curtsey, and was off for her panacea for all ills, a 
‘ ‘ spin on her bike. ’ ’ 

‘‘ I suppose,” said Ted after a pause, in a somewhat 
awed voice, “ that Adam is Martha’s husband.” 

Aura bubbled over with quick mirth. “ Martha ’s hus- 
band! Oh dear, no! Why, she is always at me ‘ not 
to incline to no man, no; not if his ’air be ’ung round 
with gold’; and just think of Adam’s little cropped 
head! ” 

Her laugh was infectious. 

And so Martha shares the — the family dislike to 
gold, ’ ’ suggested Ned slyly. 

Mr. Sylvanus Smith rose to the fly at once. “ We do 
not dislike it, sir; gold has undoubtedly its appointed 
place in the world, but it happens to be in its wrong place. 
So I disregard it, and pay all my bills by cheque. ’ ’ 

“ Martha makes out the lists for the Army and Navy, 
you know,” explained Aura quickly. “ It’s rather fun 
unpacking the boxes when they come. ’ ’ 

” There is no doubt,” continued Mr. Smith, in a tone 
of voice which suggested an effort to be strictly original, 
‘ ‘ that as now administered, money is the root of all evil. 
Our hoarded millions instead of, as they should, bringing 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


41 


equality — comfortable, contented equality — to the world, 
separate man from his fellow man by a purely artificial 
distinction ; they bring about class antagonism, and are a 
premium on inept idleness/’ 

Hear, hear! ” said Ted. “ I quite agree with you, 

sir. If these millions were equitably divided ” 

They would be a premium on idle ineptitude in- 
stead,” laughed Ned lightly. “ If you gave a loafer the 
same wage as a working man, I for one would loaf. It 
is the better part. If any one were to offer me a golden 
sovereign at the present moment. Miss Aura ” 

She arrested the teapot in the middle of pouring out 
his second cup, and glanced up at him in smiling horror. 

“And I never gave back the one in Cockatua’s bread 
and milk tin! Dear me, what should I have done if 
you had gone away and left it? I’ll remember it after 
tea.” 

But after tea found them still laughing, still talking, 
still sitting silent awhile listening to the song of a thrush 
which, as the day drew down to dusk, sat on the bent 
branch of the old yew to sing as surely never thrush 
sang before. 

So the moon climbed into the sky and the flowers 
faded into the ghosts of flowers, each holding just a hint 
of the hues it had worn by day. 

“ What a pity it is to go to bed at all,” said Aura sud- 
denly, leaning over her grandfather’s chair and laying 
her cheek on his thick, white hair ; ‘ ‘ for we seem to have 
so much to say to each other, don’t we? ” 

He winced slightly; since for once he had forgotten 
the absorption of his later years, and had let himself be 
as he would have been but for the tragedy which he had 
fled into the wilderness to hide. For he had seen his wife 
starve to death, and his daughter sell herself for bread, 
while he, struck down by rheumatic fever, had waited 
for the tardy decision of a Law Court. The verdict had 
come too late for either ; too late for anything but decent 
burial for a poor, young mother, and flight, if possible, 
from himself. But, though he forgot sometimes, the 


42 


A 80YEREI0:tf REMEDY 


tragedy of seeing his wife die before his helplessness, it 
remained always to blur his outlook, to make him what he 
was, a half-crazy visionary. 

And to-night he had forgotten. He had laughed at 
trivialities, and told trivial stories of the thousand-year- 
old yew tree, and the Druidical legends connected with 
the summer solstice — the real midsummer night, though 
St. John’s Day came later. 

But now remembrance came back, and he rose. “We 
have talked too much, ’ ’ he said almost captiously, ‘ ‘ and 
these gentlemen have to leave at dawn. We wish them 
good luck, don’t we? Come, Aurelia, my child.” 

So they had said good-bye; but live minutes after- 
wards, as the two young men sat silently finishing their 
pipes, they saw her returning over the lawn, holding the 
sovereign in her raised right hand. 

It seemed to them as if the whole world came with her 
as, rising to their feet instinctively, they waited beside 
the cool, dark pool, full of the black shadows of the yew 
tree, full also of marvellous moonlit depths going down 
and down into more and more light. 

The air was heavy with the fiower fragrance of the 
garden, the round moon, large, soft, mild, hung in the 
velvety sky, not a breath stirred in earth or heaven, her 
very footstep on the turf was silent. 

“ Which of you gave it me? ” she asked. “You are 
so much alike, at first, that I forget.” 

They were silent, uncertain what to claim, what not to 
claim. 

She smiled. “ Is it a puzzle? You want me to find 
out ; but really, I expect it came from you both. ’ ’ 

“ Yes, from us both,” assented Ned. 

Her eyes were on Ted ’s face, which was good indeed to 
look upon, but she turned swiftly to Ned. 

“ Ah! It was you, of course. Yes, it was you,” she 
said, holding out the coin. He took it without a word. 

“ It seems a shame to go to bed this heavenly night, 
but you have to be up so early. ’ ’ There was regret in her 
voice. 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 43 

“ Why should we? said Ned impulsively. “ Let us 
roam the hills, I have done it before now, alone. * ^ 

She stood looking at them both, her face mysteriously 
bright. 

“And you? she asked of Ted. 

He laughed. “ I feel like it to-night, anyhow.^’ 

“Ah,’’ she said, nodding her head, “ you are a wise 
man. Good-night and pleasant dreams. ’ ’ 

They watched her pass in her white raiment across the 
lawn, taking the glamour of the night with her, and leav- 
ing them with an ordinary moon shining on an ordinary 
garden. 

Then Ted gave a short laugh and flung himself on the 
turf again, resuming his pipe. 

“ What’s the matter? ” asked Ned imperturbably. 

‘ ‘ Nothing. I was only thinking of all the gassing you 
let out yesterday concerning money. Why, it means — 
everything! Hang that sovereign to your watch-chain, 
man, and then you can tell her a romantic tale 
when ” 

A “ whitt whitt, whitter/* followed by a sudden sob 
among the shadows and lights of the pool, told of one 
more duck-and-drake 

“As if that made any difference,” he continued sardon- 
ically. “You have plenty more of them.” 

“ So far as I’m concerned, it makes some difference,” 
retorted Ned with spirit. “ That particular coin won’t 
be put to baser uses. ’ ’ 

There was a pause, broken only by Ned’s vain effort to 
get his cheroot to draw. Suddenly he flung it aside, 
edged himself out of the shadow into the light and faced 
his namesake. 

“ Look here, Cruttenden,” he said, “I’ve got some- 
thing to explain to you, because — well — because I want 
this thing to be fair and square between us. The fact 
is, that though my name is Edward Cruttenden all right, 
I have the misfortune to havey^been for the last two years, 
most unexpectedly. Lord Bl^kborough. ” 

‘ ‘ Lord Blackborough ! ’ ’ ^hoed Ted slowly. ' ‘ Why— 


44 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


why, you’re — you’re my master — that is to say, I’m one 
of your clerks — and — and you’re the richest man in the 
midlands. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I believe I was, a year ago ; but money doesn ’t stick 
by me. I wasn’t brought up to it. Yes, I became Lord 
Blackborough against my will, by the death of my uncle, 
a cripple, who inherited the barony — bought by screws 
chiefly — from the original purchaser, who had a fit on 
hearing that his only son had shot himself over a woman. 
A squalid story, and the distinction between us is, as you 

see, a purely artificial one ” 

“ I quite agree with your lordship,” interrupted Ted. 
‘ ‘ My dear fellow, ’ ’ replied Lord Blackborough, ‘ ‘ you 
will oblige me by not being a garden ass. The fact is, we 
have a considerable likeness to each other outside, in 
which you have distinctly the advantage. You’re taller, 
broader ; briefly, the better looking. As to the inside, we 
differ somewhat, but there again you have the qualities 
which make for wealth, and I haven’t. I can see myself 
a poor man in my old age. Then we tumbled off our 
cycles together in an equal way. In a still more equal 
way we have tumbled into — let us say, this Garden 
of Eden. Now, why shouldn’t we remain in it on equal 
terms t ” 

“ Because it is impossible. You are Lord Black- 
borough, and I am your clerk.” 

‘ ‘ But why should we not remain the brothers Crutten- 

den? In this remote ” 

‘ ‘ Impossible, ’ ’ repeated Ted angrily. 

“Anyhow, let us think over it. We agreed, didn’t we, 
to spend our holiday together. Well, let us talk it over, 

and if it is feasible, come back ” 

Ted laughed bitterly. ‘ ‘ A clerk hasn ’t so much holiday 

as a lord. I ’ve had my week, while you ” 

“ Yes, of course; don’t, please, go off at a tangent like 
our host. We have got to work this thing out somehow, 
for, unless we do — well — I won ’t come back alone, so you 
would always have that between you and your night’s 
rest. Do you understand ? ” 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


45 


Ted nodded sulkily. He had liked his companion be- 
fore he knew he was a lord, and now all the Englishman ’s 
love for one, that strange modern inversion which grants 
quality to title, instead of as in the beginning granting 
title to quality, was mixed up in the thought of future 
friendship with one who would, who could be such a 
friend. 

‘ ‘ Of course, I could buy you off, or turn you out. Now, 
don’t fume. I won’t interfere with your personal liberty 
if I can help it. I really am in deadly earnest. It seems 
to me we have been given a lead over — that there is some- 
thing behind all this. However, that is neither here nor 
there, so far as you are concerned. ’ ’ He sat for a moment 
thinking. 

“ When can you get your next holiday? ” he asked 
abruptly. 

‘ ‘ I believe I could get a week at Christmas, ’ ’ admitted 
Ted grudgingly. 

Lord Blackborough sprang to his feet like a schoolboy, 
and laughed. ‘ ‘ How will Eden look under snow ? Jolly, 
I expect ” 

“ You don’t mean ” began Ted, rising also. 

“ Yes, I do. I mean that, so far as I’m concerned, we 
shall say good-bye to it — till Christmas — at dawn — the 
dawn which will so soon be coming. Good Heavens ! ” he 
added, his eyes on the horizon of the l^ills, his voice soften- 
ing infinitely, “ why am I going tojbed? Who knows? 
Perchance to dream. Good-night.”/ 

Ted could hear him going on witfi the quotation as he 
strolled over to the house. Thereinafter there was a light 
in one of the upper windows, and then darkness. 

He himself sat for a while thinking over the queer 
chances of the last few days. It wis like a novel ; not like 
real life. That hundred pounds,|Tor instance, lying out 
on the hillside ready for any out who chose to take it. 
There had been plenty of chanc4 of a hundred pounds 
even in his life, had he felt any immediate necessity for 
them, but he had not. His lif^ on the whole had been 
pleasant enough. Fond of footbhll, cricket, cycling, row- 


46 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


ing, he had not thought much of the delights of money 
getting. But now? A hundred pounds well laid out, 
for instance on that investment about which his old school 
friend, a clerk on the Stock Exchange, had written him 
only last week, might well be a thousand by Christmas. 

It held him fast that hundred pounds, thinking what 
could be done with it by Christmas. 

It might win him Aurelia. For if in other ways 
equality could be kept up, why shouldn’t he have a fair 
chance ? He was the better looking — if that counted for 
anything. Then he had another advantage. Though he 
was long past much of the old man’s antiquated Social- 
ism, he was keen on more modern ideas, a Radical of the 
most forward type politically, whereas Lord Blackbor- 
ough — what was Lord Blackborough ? Well, he was a 
very good fellow anyhow. 

Yes, he was a good fellow, though he was right in say- 
ing money didn’t stick to him. How could it, when he 
left it, so to speak, lying about. 

Ted knocked out the ashes of his pipe, and, after a 
space, another light showed in one of the upper windows. 
Then it went out, and the window eye was shut. 

But what of the eyes within. Were they shut or open? 

Who knows ? 

Were their owners asleep or awake, conscious that they 
had reached a crossing of the ways — that one path led up 
to the rugged mountain-tops, the other into the smooth 
valleys. 

Who knows ? 

The moon shone softly behind a haze of midnight cool- 
ness, rising from the earth to blur the clear circle of her 
heavenly rim. 

There was a breathlessness in the very stillness of the 
night, that was broken only by the distant wailing of the 
lambs new-separate from their mothers. 

Hark ! What was it they were calling ? Faint and far 
away, what was it ? 

Aura! Aura! Aural 

Up in the corries, setting the tall brackens a-quiver. 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


47 


high on the birch woods hidden in their silver, higher still 
among the tumbled rocks of the “ Eye of the World,’' 
what was that passing? 

Was it, white and dim, a wandering sheep looming 
large upon the moonlit mountainside as it sought to an- 
swer the cry, or, this midsummer night when the spirits 
wander, was it a restless wraith seeking it knew not what ? 

Or was it Aura herself, free and fearless among the 
hills ? 

Aura! Aura! Aura! ” 

The faint, far-distant call sounded from the valley, 
from the corries, from the birch woods, from the rocks. 

The shadows lay so still, so soft, yet that one surely 
moved — moved upwards. 

Aura! Aura! Aura! ” Was it Aura, or only the 
echoing sound of the calling lambs ? 

Still, soft, equable, serene, oh, misty mountain moon- 
light what didst thou hold ? 

And in the garden across the lawn, where the girl’s 
feet had lain, was that curved shadow, a snake making 
its way to the black and white shadow of the Druid ’s yew 
tree? 

Oh, misty moonlight of the valley what didst thou hold, 
as the faint, far-away cry echoed between the hills, and 
up into high heaven ? 

Did they meet and hold converse face to face upon the 
mountain-top, those wandering lights and shadows on the 
mountainsides? or did they wander, searching for some- 
thing, until dawn, and find nothing? 


Dawn at any rate came soon, as Ned had said it would. 

The moonlight changed swiftly to sunlight, the heifer 
lowed for her bull-calf, a sleepy chaffinch chirruped his 
challenge to the coming day, and Ted Cruttenden coming 
into the verandah from the library saw Ned entering it 
from the music room, while at the hall door between them 
stood Aurelia, blushing at being caught so early. 

She was in a loose, white overall, girded in at the waist 


48 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


with a leathern girdle, and her bare feet were shod in 
sandals. 

“ Good-morning,” she said, without any trace of the 
blush in her voice. “ See what I have found under the 
old yew tree. Grandfather’s chair had torn the turf, and 
there it was. Do you think it can be the snake-ring 
grandfather told us about ? ’ ’ 

The flat, bead-like stone she held out was no larger than 
a sixpence, but it had a hole through its greenish, semi- 
opaque lustre. 

“ I think it must be,” said Ted, passing it on to Ned. 
“ You will have ‘ all the wealth of the world.’ Wasn’t 
that what it is supposed to bring ? ’ ’ 

“ But I don’t want money,” she said. 

“ The wealth of the world is not all money,” smiled 
Ned, handing the stone back to her. “ There is love.” 

She laughed merrily. “ I don’t want that either. No ! 
not if ’is ’air be ’ung round with gold. ’ ’ 

They waved a good-bye to her from the turn of the 
draw-bridge. 

“ Till Christmas,” said Ned cheerfully. 

“ Till Christmas,” replied Ted cheerfully. 

They found the village early astir. Miss Myfanwy 
Jones’s holiday having come to an end, she was starting 
for Williams and Edwards with a pile of empty dress 
and bonnet boxes, which Alicia Edwards, the Reverend 
Morris Pugh, and the Adonis Mervyn were packing into 
the village shandrydan. 

“ It is most kind of you gentlemen to be up so early, ’ ’ 
said Myfanwy, dispensing her smiles impartially. “ It is 
no use asking you, Mr. Morris, ’ ’ she said, throwing a little 
flavouring of regret into her voice, “ you are too busy 
and too good; but if Mr. Mervyn comes up to town I 
trust he will call on me.” 

Mervyn, whose front lock looked exactly as if it had 
just left a curling-pin’s care, nodded at her approvingly. 

‘ ‘ That would be jolly fun, ’ ’ he said. ^ ‘ I have to go up 
for an examination in September.” 

“ Good-bye, then, till September. Good-bye, Alicia.” 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 49 

As she kissed the latter she whispered, “ That will be a 
guinea to your account for the hat. ’ ’ 

“You said a pound,” protested Alicia. 

“ That was for cash, child. And what is a shilling? 
But two sixpences ; and you shall pay when you are mar- 
ried, see you. ’ ’ 


CHAPTER V 


Would anything stop those waves except a Cornish coast? 
thought Helen Tressilian, as she watched the green-blue, 
solid water slip over a half-sunk rock, and with unabated 
strength, send up against a higher shelving mass a forty- 
foot column of reckless spray. 

And the sky was so blue, the sun so hot, bringing out all 
the aromatic odours of the cliff herbs. How sweet they 
were ! It would almost be worth while to be a humble bee 
to work so busily among the purple thyme. She let some 
heads of it she had picked fall on her lap with a little list- 
less gesture. Yes! to work instead of droning out the 
days. To work as Herbert, the dead young husband of 
her dreams, had meant to work. It was seven years since 
she had lost him in Italy, whither they had gone on their 
honeymoon for his health. So he lay there dead through 
the breaking of a blood vessel ; dead without a good-bye ; 
dead under the blue sky amid the orange blossoms, while 
she, after her mother ^s death, kept house for her father. 
Sir Geoffrey Pentreath. And still on her roughest serge 
suits she wore the conventional muslin of widowhood 
round her throat and wrists. 

And in her heart ? In her heart she had set up such a 
fetich of bereavement that the idea of a second marriage 
was unthinkable. Yet it would have been advisable. The 
death of her only brother in South Africa sent the few 
farms, which was all that remained of the great Pen- 
treath estates, to a distant cousin, and for long years past 
Sir Geoffrey had had no ready money. Poor father 1 It 
was the thought of her which made him 

She glanced to the left, over a great scaur of tumbled 
rocks like some giant ^s house in ruins, gave a little shiver 
and buried her face in her hands. 

50 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


51 


Poor father! Yet how could he? And how could he 
be mixed up with all those fateful, hateful people with 
money, who brought their chauffeurs to the old serving- 
hall at the Keep ? Those chauffeurs were the bane of her 
life ; for what should she give them to eat ! 

Some one from behind clasped her wrists close, and 
held her hands still on her eyes. 

‘ ‘ Guess 1 ’ ’ said a sepulchrally gruff voice. 

“ My dear Ned! Where have you come from? ” she 
answered gaily. 

“ How did you find out? ’’ asked Ned Blackborough, 
seating himself on the thyme beside her. 

“As if any one but Ned Cruttenden — I can’t help the 
name, my dear — was ever quite so hoarse ! ’ ’ 

“ By George, Nell,” he said, looking seawards, “ it is 
good to be here. That’s what one always says, isn’t it, 
when the visible Body of the Lord is transfigured before 
one ’s eyes as it is now. ’ ’ 

“ You know, Ned, I do not agree with your Buddhistic 
notions, ’ ’ she said, a trifle severely. 

“Beg pardon! They’re not Buddhistic; but I’m al- 
always forgetting you don’t like — though you will some 
day ! Meanwhile I want to ask you a question : and as the 
butler told me you would be on the coast somewhere . . . 
you’ve a most superior set of London servants just now, 
Nell ” 

“ To keep the chauffeurs company,” she interrupted, 
shrugging her shoulders. “ One must — ^but don’t let’s 

talk of it — it’s sickening And so you came to the 

old place? ” 

“ To the old place, Nell,” he repeated, looking at her 
with criticising eyes of kind affection, and thinking she 
looked as though she stood in need of physical and moral 
backing ; “ I always think of you here, looking out to sea, 

just under Betty Cam’s chair ” he nodded his head 

backwards to the scaur of tumbled rocks. “ If you get 
looking so long, Nell, you will be seeing ghostly things — 
like she did. She was your ancestress, you know, and it 
isn’t safe ” 


52 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


He spoke tentatively, but she evaded him. “ You said 
you had a question, ’ ’ she asked ; ‘ ‘ what is it ? ” 

‘ ‘ Only if you have room at the Keep ? ’ ^ 

She laid her hand on his in swift reproof — “ Was there 
ever a time when there was not room ? ’ ’ 

He smiled. “ True; but unfortunately I’ve — I’ve a 
second self now.” 

“ Ned! ” She stared at him. Oh Ned! How could 
you — without a word ! Who is she ? ’ ’ 

“ It is a he, my dear. We collided together and found 
out our respective names were the same. But of that 
anon. And there is a Scotch doctor too — a rattling good 
fellow, one Peter Ramsay, whom we picked up — but of 
that also anon. Meanwhile these are at the ‘ Crooked 
Ewe ’ regaling themselves, and — well! I can’t leave 
them, you see, for they’re my guests, but — but we could 
dine with the chauffeurs, you know.” 

‘‘ Don’t be silly, Ned! Of course you must come. 
There’s still room in the ruins for the family — and you 
won ’t mind ’ ’ 

She broke off suddenly, and looked out to sea. 

“ Tired, Nell? ” he asked quietly. “ How you fuss, 
my dear cousin ! ’ ’ 

“ Who could help fussing? ” she said without looking 
at him. ‘‘We could live so comfortably, father and I, 
on what we have got, if it were not for this craze of his 
to make money for me. Ah, Ned ! I wish you had never 
lent him that fifteen thousand.” 

It was nearer twenty-five thousand, but that fact lay 
lightly on Ned Blackborough’s mind. 

‘‘ I believe it to be an excellent investment,” he re- 
marked coolly, “ though I own I didn’t know what he 
wanted it for at the time. ’ ’ 

“And you don’t know now? ” she broke in passion- 
ately. ‘ ‘ There it stands — despicable utterly — facing the 
sea — that sea.” She pointed to it appealingly. 

Ned looked out to the clear horizon, so definite yet so 
undefined, where a liner, after taking its bearings from 
the lighthouse far away to the west, was steering straight 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


53 


up Channel. It seemed to glide evenly between sea and 
sl^, and yet here the thunder of each wave filled the air 
with sound. Ay ! a sea not to be safely faced by anything 
despicable. 

“You are letting this beast of an hotel get on your 
mind, Nell,” he said, after a pause. “After all, half the 
white and coloured cliifs of Old England are so dese- 
crated ’ ’ 

“ Don’t excuse it,” she interrupted almost fiercely; 
“ it’s inexcusable. When I think what Jeff would have 

said — Jeff who loved every stone — dear old Jeff ” 

She broke off and hid her face in her hands. 

‘ ‘ Curse South Africa ! ’ ’ said Ned under his breath. 

She looked up after a while. “You see,” she began 
more composedly, “ what stings is that it is all done for 
me ; and I — fifty pounds a year would keep me going as 
a hospital nurse ; and I shall never be anything else, Ned, 
never ! I lost everything for myself seven years ago, and 
what I have belongs to others. And there is so much in 
the past for which atonement should be made. You don’t 
belong to the Pentreaths, you see ; but they were a wild 
race — Betty Cam, as you reminded me ! Think of her ! 
Why, Ned, when I see at night that hateful place all lit 
up with electric light and shining far, far out to sea, I 
feel as if we were doing it all over again ! Luring ships 
to the rocks ! ’ ’ 

“ My dear Nell, what an imagination you’ve got! ” 
expostulated her cousin. 

She pulled herself up. ^ ‘ Have I ? But it is so useless. 
And it seems to get worse and worse since Mr. Hirsch 
came in. He is at the Keep now, arranging for a light 
railway. And oh, Ned ! the place where we used to picnic 
as children — you remember, of course — is all placarded 
as ‘ eligible building-sites.’ ” 

Ned whistled, and looked out to sea. As he had said, 
the white cliffs of Marine England were so disfigured 
everywhere ; but that did not bring much consolation for 
the destruction of absolute beauty. 

“ Well,” he said, “ I only hope some one may think 


54 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


them so, and that the hotel is crowded up to the garrets. 
It ’s got to be ; for the farmers and the little shopkeepers 
at Haverton, who put their piles into it — because my 
uncle did — will expect a dividend ! 

‘ ‘ And the others too, ’ ’ she added bitterly. “You know 
Mr. Hirsch has floated it. It’s quoted on the Stock Ex- 
change now, and they are going to run up select jerry- 
built villas with the money they get on the new shares, 
as they ran up the jerry-built hotel ” 

“ With mine,” laughed Ned, a trifle uneasily. “ Well, 
my dear child, I hadn ’t any intention of building it — but 
it’s there — and let us come and look at it. It can’t 
help, can it, being in a lovely spot ? ’ ’ 

“ Can ’t it ? ” she said coldly ; ‘ ‘ but I try to forget its 
existence — it gets on my nerves.” 

‘ ‘ Apparently, ’ ’ he said quietly. 

“ And so it would on yours,” she retorted, “ if you 
lived within hail of it, and nothing else was talked about 
day and night. But there — let’s leave it alone! You 
can see it on your way to the ‘ Crooked Ewe.’ We shall 
expect you to lunch, of course. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Thanks, ’ ’ he replied ; ‘ ‘ and — and I think you ’ll like 
the Scotch doctor — he is so awfully keen. So full too of 
his work at Blackborough. He is house-surgeon, I think, 
to some hospital there. ’ ’ 

Her face, a moment before, almost sullen in its ob- 
stinate objection, lit up at once. “ Not St. Peter’s ! ” she 

cried. ‘ ‘ How interesting Why 1 it is the best, they 

say, in the kingdom ; and I mean to have my training in 
the children ’s ward there. ’ ’ 

“You look rather as if you ought to go there as a 
patient, Nell,” he replied, shaking his head; “ and you 
are a perfect child still. I wonder if you will ever 
learn ” 

‘ ‘ What ? ’ ’ she asked quickly. 

“ Yourself,” he laughed, as he started up the scaur. 

Betty Cam’s chair lay at the top ; a huge slab of gneiss 
with another forming the back, bearing no particular re- 
semblance to a chair at all. Still there it was that Betty 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


55 


Cam, the witch, used to sit, and, after lighting her false 
fire, fling her arms about and mutter incantations till 
deadly storms arose. 

Many are such stories, current on the wild west coast, 
and still firmly believed of the people ; none perhaps bet- 
ter authenticated than this, that on the nights of fierce 
sou ’westers a glow of light could still be seen at Betty 
Cam’s chair, and that more than once the ghost of the 
ghostly Indiaman which, with all sails set, had sailed one 
awful winter’s night straight up the bay, straight over 
the cliff, nipped up Betty Cam, and sailed away with her 
right over far Darty-moor to Hell, had been seen pur- 
suing the same extraordinary course. 

Ned felt as if he could have put other folk aboard for 
that trip, as, cresting the hill-top, he came full in sight 
of the Sea- view Hotel. 

He sat down promptly on the chair, and gave a low 
whistle of dismay. 

Cam’s point, as he had known it, that gorse-covered 
promontory sheer down in purpling cliff to the blue-green 
sea, was gone. In its place was an ineffectual attempt 
at a — at a tea-garden! Winding walks here, winding 
walks there, meandering toward aimless summer-houses, 
kiosks, bandstands, which were recklessly scattered about 
the bare soil. For it was bare. Gorse would grow there, 
or scented purple thyme, or any of the innumerable small 
aromatic herbs which the south-west wind loves, but grass 
and most garden flowers were helpless before the constant 
breeze, which, instant in season and out of season, swept 
over the point laden with salt, and even in this flat, calm, 
June weather making the steel guy-ropes of the flag-staff 
hum like a hive of swarming bees. 

As for the Sea-view — ye gods 1 the pestilential obvious- 
ness of that name 1— Hotel, if it also were not guyed by 
ropes it looked as if it would be the better of it. WTiat 
was it, standing on the very edge of the cliff — Italian — 
Greek — Gothic — or a Swiss chalet? There were remin- 
iscences of all in its medley of inconsequent towers, 
gables, battlements, balconies. A lunatic asylum built by 


56 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


the patients! Utterly irrational, utterly out of touch 
with its surroundings of earth, and sea, and sky. Yes 1 
quite antagonistic to the little fishing village in the bay 
below, to the supreme fairness of the coast trending away 
westward in headland after headland. Above all, abso- 
lutely unfit to face that wide waste of water, so smooth, 
so silent on the far horizon, so restless, so clamorous in its 
assault on the near clilfs. You could hear the angry roar 
of the waves on the rocks, see the weather-stains on those 
thin walls. 

And as he watched a strange thing came about. In 
every wide window of the huge fagade a blaze of light 
showed, and round the arches hung with lamps in the tea- 
garden, a multi-coloured fiash shone for a second, and 
then went out again. 

They must be trying the electric light. Then he 
laughed suddenly. It tickled his fancy — apt to be va- 
grant — to think how this gigantic modern sham, full of 
false civilisation, full of lifts, lounges, bars, winter-gar- 
dens, a real up-to-date, twentieth-century substitute for a 
home, engineered on the latest American lines, must look 
to any home-bound ship passing up channel. A beacon 
distinctly ; but a beacon warning the world against 
what? 

“ Trinity House and Betty Cam had better settle it 
between them,” he muttered to himself, as, turning at 
right angles, he set otf over the moorland to the ‘ ‘ Crooked 
Ewe,” where Peter Ramsay and Ted Cruttenden were 
awaiting him. 

He had picked up the former crossing over from Cardiff 
to Ilfracombe, and finding he had a few days to spare be- 
fore taking up his new appointment, Ned had,,asked him 
to come on with him and see the prettiest part of Corn- 
wall, and perhaps stop a night with his uncle Sir Geoffrey 
Pentreath — if there was room. 

He wondered rather how Helen had found this room, 
as he looked round the long lunch table ; but, as his uncle 
confided to him, half of the guests belonged to the hotel. 
There had been a committee of ways and means, and sev- 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


57 


eral people — notably Mr. Robert Jenkin, who was sitting 
next Helen — were over from Wellhampton for the day. 
Yes ! that was Mr. Hirsch at her other side, a most able 
man, but rather too near his bete noire, Mr. Jenkin, to 
show to advantage. 

As a matter of fact, Mr. Hirsch was making himself 
extremely disagreeable to his enemy by insisting on keep- 
ing the conversation at a much higher level of culture 
than any to which Mr. Jenkin could aspire, for he had 
begun and gone on with life for a considerable time as 
a local ironmonger. Then fortune had favoured him, and 
he became the local millionaire, remaining still, however, 
so Mr. Hirsch declared, ‘ ‘ the petty tradesman. ’ ’ 

The latter was a very clever, very dapper little German 
Jew, with nothing to show his ancestry and his age, ex- 
cept a slight foreign lisp, and a still more slight tendency 
to size below the last button of his waistcoat, a tendency 
which gave him more concern than it need have done, 
since it really only showed in profile. For the rest, he 
was inscrutably good-natured. Money stuck to him, and 
his many kindnesses never interfered with his keen eye 
for business — or beauty. 

It was Helen’s handsome, melancholy face which had 
been the secret of his interest in Sir Geoffrey ’s venture ; 
on the principle of opposites, it is to be supposed, since 
he was a frank pagan, a bon viveur born. 

So he talked lightly of Rome, and a few of the crowned 
heads of Europe with whom he had a bowing acquaint- 
ance; but finding this rather too interesting to Mr. Jen- 
kin, he settled down on Bayreuth, and gossiped Parsifal, 
becoming after a time really engrossed, and saying al- 
most with tears in his eyes, “ Ah ! my dear lady, how I 
should love to show you it.” 

He felt seriously sentimental ; in truth, the remark was 
as near a proposal as he had gone for quite a number of 
years. 

“ We intend, Mrs. Tressilian,” put in Mr. Jenkin, not 
to be outdone, “ to get the Yaller Peking band down from 
the Halls durin’ our season — July- August. It’ll play 


58 


A SOVJE REIGN REMEDY 


durin^ meals, an^ after dinner in the Pirates’ Pavilion. 
An’ I’m sure, Mrs. Tressilian, the conductor — he ain’t 
really a Chinaman, ma’am, the pig- tail bein’ only a thing 
to catch on — ha! ha! ha! that ain’t a bad joke, is it, 
Hirsch ? Pig- tails a thing to catch on to — ha ! ha 1 ha ! ” 

Mr. Hirsch surveyed him with distasteful wonder. 

“You don’t wear one, do you, Mr. Jenkin? ” he 
asked suavely, his foreign accent coming out, as it always 
did, when he was annoyed. 

“ No, sir, I don’t,” snapped his adversary; “ but as 
I was sayin’, ma’am, I’m sure if you had a hankerin’ 
after any particular tune, he’d play it. I don’t know 
about Percival, but his repertoire of Cake Walk is the 
first, I ’m told, in Europe. ’ ’ 

Meanwhile Ned Blackborough was taking stock of the 
rest of the company. On the whole — queer ! The Wrex- 
hams he knew, of course. She went in for spiritualism 
and he for spirits ; both good enough sorts even at that ; 
but the bulk smelt distinctly of money. 

And his uncle ? 

Ned had not seen him for over a year, and he was 
frankly taken aback by the change in him. His face, 
weakly handsome as ever, hale still in its thin ruddiness, 
had lost the cheery look which had survived even the 
death of his only son, who had “ died as a Pentreath 
should.” This and such vague comfortings regarding 
‘ ‘ rest, ’ ’ and being ‘ ‘ with his mother, ’ ’ and of the youth- 
ful company whom “ the gods love,” — comfortings with 
which humanity has always met bereavement, had not 
only been on his lips, but in his heart. He had always 
been an optimist — and now? Anxiety sat on every fea- 
ture. The man was haggard. And what was this griev- 
ance against Helen which made such sentences as “ Mrs. 
Tressilian will have her own opinion, no doubt,” or “ You 
must ask my daughter; I cannot answer for her,” quite 
noticeably frequent in his conversation. 

As he sat listening while his next-door neighbour, a 
very talkative and a very deaf lady, assured him that her 
motor, which she had bought in Paris, was the only one 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


59 


of its kind in England, and that it was absolutely, en- 
tirely, shakeless and noiseless. Lord Blackborough had 
time for cogitation. 

They were very smart people, and it was a very smart 
luncheon : champagne, pdte-de-foie en aspic, liquers, and 
cigarettes on the lawn. A new regime certainly for the 
kindly old Keep, where, as a boy, he had spent his holi- 
days with his aunt, his mother’s sister. Yes! a new 
regime, especially if the chauffeurs were being similarly 
regaled downstairs ! 

And what a fine old place it was! set so deep out of 
the way of the wind in a hollow of old pines and oaks, 
and yet so close to the sea that even now the hollow boom 
of the Atlantic waves sounded against the shrill voices 
of those smart women as a bassoon sounds against a violin. 
Ay! and in the winter sou ’-westers, the rush and hush 
of the sea blent with the rush and hush of the leaves. He 
could imagine Betty Cam — h’m, that was Helen’s fault 
for being so tragic ! He looked round for her, and saw 
her talking to Dr. Ramsay. Ted also was well employed, 
hanging on Mr. Hirsch’s lips as he spoke airily of bulls 
and bears. Ted, if he didn’t take care, would become a 
zoologist also! 

So thought Ned Blackborough as he wandered away 
from the lawns that were still kept smooth and green, 
towards the wilderness of garden beyond. And the 
thought of money bringing the thought of Aura, he 
smiled, lit a cigar, and went still further afield to find a 
certain peach tree that used to have peaches on it. 

The others were happy; why should he not have his 
share of enjoyment? 

As a matter of fact, however, Helen and Dr. Ramsay 
were not enjoying themselves; at least she was not, for 
he had met her assertion that the one wish of her life 
(“ since my husband’s death seven years ago,” being 
interpolated with the usual note of resigned reverence 
in her voice) had been to be a hospital nurse, with a du- 
bious shake of the head. 

‘ ‘ I wouldn ’t if I were you, ’ ^ he said slowly. ‘ ‘ I rather 


60 


A SOYEREIG^t^ REMEDY 


doubt your being fit for it. One requires a lot of stam- 
ina.” 

She stared at him almost haughtily. “ But I am very 
strong, I assure you,” she replied, with a smile of great 
tolerance, ‘ ‘ I daresay I look pale — for the Cornish coast ; 
but, oh ! I am very strong ! ’ ’ 

“ Physically, perhaps.” His Scotch accent gave the 
qualification great precision. 

“Then, mentally ” she almost gasped. 

‘ ‘ Mentally, no, ’ ’ he replied quite calmly. 

“ Excuse me,” she remarked, “ but I really do not 
think you know me well enough.” 

“ Do I not? ” he remarked, his brown eyes smiling 
into hers ; “ you forget that I am a doctor, and, Mrs. 
Tressilian, your nervous system is at the present moment 
— mind you, it’s no blame — in absolutely unstable equi- 
librium. ’ ’ 

“ Unstable equilibrium! Really, Dr. Ramsay ” 

“ My dear lady,” he said, “ I have been thinking all 
lunchtime that if you would only allow yourself to be 
hypnotised, you would be clairvoyant. I shouldn ’t won- 
der if you would be able to project yourself ! and think 
what that might mean! Why, you might give us a 
clue ” he paused quite excited. 

“And what has that to do with nursing? ” she asked 
coldly. 

“ It makes for a temperament that is too — ^what shall 
I call it? — ^unpractical. You have a gift — a great gift — 
but it is not for nursing ; you are too sentimental. ’ ’ 

“And how do you arrive at that conclusion? ” she 
asked, interested in spite of herself. 

“ Excuse me! ” He touched the muslin cuif she wore 
with a hand she could not help admiring: it was so 
shapely, so strong, so skilful-looking, albeit so small for 
a man of his height. 

Yet her eyes flashed a quick challenge at him. 
“You mean that it is sentimental and unpractical to 
mourn those one loves. I do not agree with you.” 

The sunlight glinting through his eyes turned them 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


61 


almost to amber. There was a world of gentle raillery in 
them at which, however, it was impossible to be angry. 

“ To wear your heart on your sleeve? — yes,” he re- 
plied. “Ah, Mrs. Tressilian, believe me, you are lost to 
the world ! What a wife you would have made with your 
ardent imagination to some grovelling slave tied down, 
as I am, by the nose, to the body of things ! But that 
is another story, and so is clairvoyance, though in your 
present state I’m convinced you could see. The point 
at issue remains that ” he paused. 

“ Well ! ” she asked almost eagerly. 

He laughed. “ My patients say I prescribe Paradise, 
when I beg them not to fash themselves. But there is 
one thing I have found out. I can’t tell you why, but 
worry stops the working of the vital machine. It gets 
into the cogs somehow and clogs the wheels. Then you 
fall back on reserve-force, and having exhausted that, 
feel exhausted. We doctors nowadays are helpless before 
the feeling of hustle. We prescribe rest-cures, but you 
can worry as much, perhaps more, on the flat of the backj 
The remedy lies with the patient. And you have so much 
imagination, Mrs. Tressilian. Used cheerfully, it is the 
most valuable therapeutic agent we have. Ah ! here comes 
your father. Some of the hotel people want to take us all 
back to tea, and I expect he is coming to ask you about 
it.” 

She looked at him steadily, but he showed no con- 
sciousness, and she turned to meet Sir Geoffrey feeling 
baffled. She had known about and had meant to avoid 
this tea ; but something in the very directness of Dr. Ram- 
say ’s unsought diagnosis roused her to show him its in- 
correctness. 

Anyhow she found herself rather to her disgust not 
only going to the hotel, but going in the front seat of 
Mr. Hirsch’s motor. 

And once in the wide, south-western verandah — which 
was built so close to the perpendicular cliff that leaning 
over the balustrade you could see nothing but the sea — 
while the salt wind clung to her cheek like the fierce kiss 


62 


A SOVEREIGN^ REMEDY 


of a lover, bringing with it an unwonted flush of colour, 
she w^as forced to admit that the place had its charms; 
that it was not all vulgarised. There was laughter and 
music, of course (both of them loud), about the tea- 
tables, but at the further end comparative peace reigned 
around the couch of an invalid lady, whose little girl 
was apparently a great friend of Sir Geoffrey’s. He 
was always so good to children, she remembered with 
a pang, picturing herself as she was at little Maidie’s 
age. 

The child ’s mother, Amy Massingham, was very dark — 
dark, with those large lustrous eyes, and very white 
teeth, which suggest Indian blood; and she must have 
been beautiful before languor and pallor had come in- 
stead of rich colour and vivacity. Still, even at her best 
she could never have touched the exceeding brightness 
and beauty of her little daughter Maidie. She was in- 
comparable. A little vivid tropical bird flitting about Sir 
Geoffrey, chattering, her small round face glowing with 
brilliant tints, sparkling, dimpling, her teeth showing in 
a flash of smiles that seemed to irradiate her body and 
soul, while her cloud of dark hair, still golden bronze at 
its curly tips, floated about with her. 

She was like a ripe pomegranate, yellow and red-brown 
in her dainty little yellow silk frock. 

Perched now on Sir Geoffrey’s long lap, she was 
stroking his soft moleskin knees, and swinging herself 
backwards and forwards rhythmically. 

“And -when daddie comes flom India,” she insisted, 
“ we won’t go ’way and leave ’oo. Sir Geoffley, will we, 
mumsie^ We ’em goin’ to stop at Seaview always, an’ 
always, an’ always. Ain’t we, mums? ” 

Amy Massingham smiled gently : she did everything so 
very gently that she failed, as it were, to do anything at 
all. Her impact was not strong enough to move any fixed 
object. 

“ Well, my precious ! It would be delightful, and dear 
Sir Geoffrey is so kind, isn’t he? but I’m afraid dadda 
can’t manage it. You see, Mrs. Tressilian, darling old 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


63 

Dick is only home on short leave — really only to see me — 
but his people will want to have him first thing. ^ ^ 

“ Oh, mumsie! We’se goin’ to have him the firstest 
thing of all, ’ ’ protested Maidie, who was now on the floor, 
fondling the big curly retriever who was always Sir 
Geoffrey's shadow, “ for his ship'll pass over there — 
right over there, don 't you see, Mrs. T 'sllian. ' ' 

She was by this time leaning over the balustrade be- 
side Helen and looked up at her — such a sparkling, bril- 
liant little maid! — with fearless eye. Something in the 
childless woman's heart went out to her, and beyond her 
again to the grave far away under the orange-trees of the 
man who was dying when she married him. If she could 
have had such a child 1 — it had been better, perhaps. 

“ Supposing we were to put up a signal here, saying, 
‘ Mumsie and Maidie waiting for you,' wouldn't it be 
fun? " she said, smiling. 

“ Will you do it? " said the child quickly. 

She shook her head. ‘ ‘ It was only supposing, Maidie, ' ' 
she replied. 

The little brilliant creature's face fell. “ Oh! I wis' 
you would — make 'em stop right here, just this corner. 
I want him to stop, an' then I'd go on the ship too, an' 
sail, an' sail, an' sail." She had forgotten her disap- 
pointment in the new idea. That is what the world does 
generally, thought Helen; and yet 

‘ ‘ I suppose you love your father, don 't you, Maidie ? ' ' 
she asked suddenly. 

The child looked at her gravely. “ 'Normous much," 
she replied, repeating her stock phrase. “An' I love Sir 
Geoffley 'normous much too. We 're goin ' to live together, 
an ' I 'm to be his darlin ' for ever an ' ever an ' nay ! Ain 't 
we ? Ain 't we ? " 

And she flung herself into his arms as he approached 
them, an unreserved joyous bundle of curls, smiles, and 
dimples. His face relaxed from the hard look of pressing 
anxiety it had worn all day. He caught the child up, 
tossing her like a feather above his long length, then 
cuddling her close to kiss. 


64 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


‘ ‘ For ever, and ever, and aye ! ’ ^ he echoed ; ‘ ‘ Never 
fear, Maidie, I ’m yours to command. ’ ^ 

Then he set her down and turned to his daughter. 
‘ ‘ Helen ! ” he said, ‘ ‘ I Ve some business here which may 
keep me awhile. You’ll drive back with Hirsch, of 
course. ’ ’ 

She did not meet his eyes, but kept hers far out at sea. 

“ I think not, father,” she said gently, “ I want to 
walk home with Ned. I have something to say to him.” 

Sir Geoffrey looked at her resentfully. ‘‘ Ned has 
found a sick Indian friend upstairs and won’t be avail- 
able — ^you’d better go.” 

She turned round then. “ No, father, I can’t. It isn’t 

fair — on him. Even coming here ” She broke off, 

and turned to the sea again. 

He came closer, hesitated. “ Nell,” he said almost 
pitifully, ‘ ‘ can ’t you — ^to please me ? He really is a good 
fellow at bottom. I wouldn’t ask it otherwise. It would 
free me — from you don’t know what. And, my God! in 
London half the pretty women one meets are married to 
such awful bounders.” 

” It is because Mr. Hirsch isn’t a bounder — because 
he really is in some ways a good fellow, ’ ’ she said, ‘ ‘ that 
I will not — I can walk back with the others. ’ ’ 

He stood looking at her with anger and affection in his 
eye for a moment, then strode off to say good-bye to 
Mrs. Massingham. 

‘ ^ I suppose your husband may drop in any moment, ’ ’ 
he said cheerfully. 

“Any moment,” she echoed, “ we are so excited, 
Maidie and I. This morning we saw such a big vessel 
passing, right away on the horizon. The manager 
thought it might be a transport. ’ ’ 

Maidie looked up and nodded her cloud of curls. 
“ But it wasn’t, you see,” she said; “ for she’s — (here 
she nodded again at Helen) — goin’ to signal ‘ Stop 
here! ’ ” 

“ That was only supposing, Maidie! ” 

“ Supposin’, an’ supposin’, an’ supposin’. ’Free 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


65 


times ’free is ’free,” quoted Maidie slyly, Just you 
wait an ’ see. ’ ’ 

“ Yes! wait and see,” laughed Sir Geoffrey; “ Good- 
bye, little one ! Next time, I suppose, daddy will have put 
my nose out of joint, and you won’t have anything to say 
to me — eh? ” 

She grew crimson to her ear-tips. ‘‘ Never! never! 
never! ” she cried, stamping her foot wilfully; “we’s 
goin ’ to live together for everan ’everan ’-aye ! ’ ’ 

The bystanders laughed at her sudden passion, and 
Sir Geoffrey’s thin, ruddy face actually flushed a still 
deeper red. 

“All right, little lady,” he said half-sheepishly. 
“ Never you fear! I’ll keep my promise for ever an’ 
never an’-naye! ” 


CHAPTER VI 


The London footman was rolling out the dressing-gong 
as if he had been apprenticed to a bronze, when Ned 
Blackborough returned from his sick friend at the Sea- 
view Hotel ; but he took no heed to its warning, and turn- 
ing down a side passage sought a room in the older part 
of the house where, as a rule, his uncle was to be found. 

And sure enough, there he was, seated at his so-called 
writing-table, and turning round a trifle startled, pen 
in hand, at the sound of the opening door. But Ned’s 
quick eye detected neither paper nor ink. The pen, then, 
was a mere shelter against the unlooked-for visitor. 

It was a quaint room, full from floor to ceiling of the 
man and his immediate forbears, that succession of Sir 
Richards and Sir Geoffreys who had inherited the ever- 
lessening estate of Pentreath for the last two hundred 
years. Fishing-rods, guns, hunting-horns, and duelling- 
pistols testified to their amusements, a tin box labelled 
“ Pentreath Estate Records,” to their occupation, and 
a complete set of the Annual Register and Gentleman* s 
Magazine to their literary tastes. There was a weighing- 
machine also, and in a glass case the sword presented to 
the then Sir Richard by Prince Charlie; for the Pen- 
treaths were always on the losing side in everything. 
Yet they had always held their heads high in the past. 

But now Sir Geoffrey’s haggard face looked as if it 
had been seeking refuge in the hands, one of which he 
held out in kindly greeting. 

“ So it’s you, Ned! — like old times. I’m glad to see 
you back again, my boy. ’ ’ 

“ And I’m glad to be back, sir,” he replied, paused, 
and then feeling there was no good in beating about the 
bush, made a plunge. 


66 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


67 


IVe got something to say to you, sir. We are leav- 
ing to-morrow morning, and I may not have another 
opportunity ” he paused again. 

“ Not much time before dinner,’’ said Sir Geoffrey, 
consulting his watch. “ But fire away. Going to get 
married? — eh? ” 

Perhaps,” said Ned coolly, but this is about the 
hotel. ’ ’ 

Damn the hotel! What’s up now? ” Never was 
curse more heartily or more hopelessly given. “ Well — 
go on.” 

I don’t know who is responsible for installing the 
electric light, but it isn’t safe. The wires are always 
fusing. They keep it very dark, but my friend — who is 
a bit of an electrical engineer himself — found out when 
he was awake last night ” 

Sir Geoffrey’s face was hidden by his hand again as 
he interrupted Ned with a short laugh. 

“Oh! that’s it — why, they always ‘ krab ’ each 
other’s work — always! And — and your money’s safe 
enough now ; the place is insured. ’ ’ 

“ I wasn’t thinking of the money, sir,” cried Ned 
outraged. “ I was thinking of all those women and 
children. ’ ’ 

Sir Geoffrey’s face came up from his hand full of 
such passionate resentment that Ned was fairly startled. 
“ By Gad, sir! ” he cried, “ and what right have you 
to suppose I don’t think of them? night and day, sir — 
day and night! ” Then his eyes finding Ned’s, he 
stretched out his hand towards him in almost childish 
helplessness. “ Oh, Ned! Ned! ” he said, “ you can’t 
think what a relief it is to talk of this with — with one 
of ourselves — with — with a gentleman instead of a 
cursed money grubber — though I will say this for 
Hirsch, he isn ’t a cad. ’ ’ 

“ Then you’ve known of this before, sir,” said Ned 
slowly. “ I see ” 

“ Known! My God! Ned, what haven’t I known 
since the devil entered into me to start this thing! I 


68 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


wouldn^t tell you, Ned, for I knew you’d be like Helen; 
but I told the heir, and he liked it. All he wants is 
money. And I — all I wanted was to make something — 
just something for Helen after poor old Jelf — went. 
He’d have looked after her, you see — the Pentreaths have 
always kept our women well — always cared for them. 
But he died! Ay! ” — here his trembling lip stiffened 
itself, “ died as a Pentreath should for his Queen and 
his country.” 

In the pause that ensued Ned thought bitterly that he 
had died in an attempt to hold the yeomanry of England 
from showing the road to the rear. That was the truth, 
and behind that truth what a record of ignorance, inepti- 
tude, greed of gain. Nothing for nothing, not even 
patriotism, was the modern motto ; a cheap loaf and a dis- 
integrated empire — caveat emptor even in the face of 
war. 

“ You can’t believe it all, Ned,” went on Sir Geoffrey, 
speaking now with less passion but more eagerness, as if 
his memories brimmed over, ‘ ‘ until you ’ve been through 
with it. I meant it all to be above board, but it wasn’t. 
The jobbery was awful. Every man just clamouring 
for money. A gentleman oughtn’t to touch a thing like 
that — it’s pitch, Ned. He has to keep in with builders 
and masons and plumbers — Oh, my God ! — ^the plumbers ! 
— all thinking of nothing but ‘ pay, pay, pay.’ Ah! 
Kipling knew the game when he wrote that refrain for 
England’s heroism, her patriotism. It will go down to 
the ages, Ned, as one man’s insight into what we Eng- 
lish are becoming.” He was walking up and down the 
room now, restlessly. “ They were all bad, but Jenkin 
was the worst — and he ought to have known. It was his 
nephew who put in the electric plant. You’ll say I ought 
to have struck, Ned, and so I ought, but your money was 
gone, Ned, and their ’s too, poor devils! — a lot of the 
farmers and people only put in a few pounds because it 
was my idea, you see. It had to go on. And what did 
I know about sea-sand and second-class putty. It isn’t 
gentleman’s work and that’s a fact. But the jolly old 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


69 


Atlantic knew sharp enough and sent salt through the 
plaster and sea-spray through the concrete. . . , Then, 
when we were in a bad way, and Jenkin — pettifogging 
tradesman! — all for saving every penny, I met Hirsch. 
Between ourselves, Ned, he began by fancying Helen, 
and I — I — well! He isn’t a cad, you know, and half 
those men one meets are; yet their wives don’t — don’t 
seem to mind.” 

He paused and looked at Ned Blackborough appeal- 
ingly, but he was inexorable. 

“ Hardly the man I should have thought you’d have 
chosen, sir, as the father of your grandchildren.” 

Sir Geofeey took it full in the face without flinching. 
“ No,” he said simply, “ I suppose not. But I’ve gone 
down, Ned, gone down terribly. I sometimes wonder if 
she — if your aunt, I mean, would know me again if — 
if I saw her.” 

He took a turn or two without speaking, then gave an 
afterthought excuse which made Ned smile, and yet feel 
inclined to curse. 

“ But there mightn’t be any children, you know. 
What good would they be — the old place has gone from 
the Pentreaths — gone utterly. Let me see — where was 
I? Oh yes! Hirsch came and saw it, and said it was 
the flnest site in Britain. And so it is. There’s not a 
better for health or beauty than Cam’s point. So he 
put us on our feet again, and spent an awful lot on 
what he called ‘ colour wash.’ At least it seems an 
awful lot to me, and Jenkin was wild. But we had to 
run it, or the new company wouldn ’t have caught on — we 
have to make it flzz, you see — but I wish to God I ’d never 
begun, — I wish to God I’d never begun ” 

He was still walking up and down muttering to 
himself. 

‘ ‘ And meanwhile, ’ ’ asked Ned, in spite of his supreme 
pity, “ what is to be done? The wires may fuse any 
moment — so Charteris thinks ” 

Sir Geoffrey caught at the doubt — “ It’s not so bad 
as that — I don’t think it’s so bad. When the season’s 


70 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


over and the new company secure, we shall put a new 
plant in and insure the place properly. And meanwhile 
we are awfully careful. I was two hours there to-day 
myself, seeing what the workmen had done; and it was 
quite a little thing — put out in a moment.’^ 

But you don’t know anything about electricity, do 
you, sir? ” asked Ned quietly, “ and I thought you said 
it was insured.” 

Sir Geoffrey’s face reddened. “Yes, in a way. 
Hirsch insured when he came in. He wouldn’t put his 
money in without it.” 

“ Would he put his wife and children in, I wonder? ” 
asked Ned bitterly. “ But I still don’t quite under- 
stand about the insurance ” 

Sir Geoffrey fidgeted. “ I’ll get Hirsch to explain. 
It’s all right, I believe, though. But they’ll insure any- 
thing nowadays, if you pay a decent premium — any 
mortal thing. ’ ’ He paused and stood the image of hope- 
less perplexity ; and then — rather to his relief — the 
dinner gong sounded. “ Good Lord! And I’m not 
dressed,” he muttered, “ we’d better go.” 

But as he reached the stairs where they divided, he 
held out that friendly, welcoming, family hand again, 
saying: — “ Thanks, Ned, it’s been such an awful relief 
not to be thinking of money. I suppose when one comes 
into so much as you have, that — that you don’t think of 
it any more ? ’ ’ 

Was it so, Ned Blackborough wondered. Hardly; for 
Mr. Hirsch had millions and still thought of more. No I 
he personally had been tired of money for some time. 
Caveat emptor was an excellent legal if not absolutely 
moral axiom; but when men allowed your millions to 
confuse the issue in their treatment of you, then — then 
one could wish the millions were not in the equation ! 

And of late — ever, in fact, since he had left the float- 
ing deposit and had seen Aura — he smiled at the re- 
membrance of her standing framed in scarlet and white, 
handing back the sovereign with that peremptory ‘ ‘ Take 
it please ! ” 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


71 


Why should not he and she go forth in the wilder- 
ness in their sandalled feet to forget — and to remember ? 
That was life. To forget so much, and to remember so 
much that one had forgotten. 

He pulled himself up after a time from the unaccus- 
tomed line of thought or reverie, telling himself it was 
all nonsense — sheer nonsense. Yet it was attractive. 

Suddenly the words “ Go ! sell all that thou hast, ’ * re- 
curred to him, making him wonder if it were a hard say- 
ing or no. For the moment he felt inclined to obey it 
literally. 

They were halfway through dinner ere Lord Black- 
borough appeared at the table. To begin with he had 
wired to his valet for dress clothes, and, accustomed to 
the routine of good service, had expected to find them 
in his room. They were not, however, and only by the 
help of a tearful little Cornish maiden at whom all the 
racketty job servants from London were swearing pro- 
fusely as she fled about trying to do everything at once, 
did he discover his suit-case in the servants^ hall, where 
two lordly chauffeurs accosted him scornfully as some 
one’s belated valet. He escaped from them — and from 
the cook who, solemnly drunk, was using inconceivable 
language to the entree she was dishing up — only to find 
that his man had forgotten to put the studs in his shirt. 
Whereupon he also cursed as he broke his finger-nails 
over the job. And yet all the time at the back of his 
brain, the thought of Aura lingered, and in the front of 
it his uncle’s face, so foolishly, childishly, helplessly 
wanting money. 

What else had the old man expected but chicanery 
when he dabbled in the Pool. It was nothing but a 
clutching whirlpool of hands trying to grasp at a golden 
sovereign in the centre ! Every one clutched, he as much 
as any one. Then with a jar, his mind reverted to the 
shade of many a tree he had seen in India, where men 
lived, and apparently lived happily, possessed of noth- 
ing but their souls, devoid of all things save the inevi- 
table garment of flesh. 


72 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


The shade of a Bo-tree ! 

This certainly was not it, he thought, as with a smiling 
apology he slipped into the empty place and found him- 
self in the battle-ground of a heated discussion. 

A trifle dazzling surely, these lights and flowers and 
fair women. Helen looked well in white at the head of 
the table between Mr. Hirsch and Dr. Ramsay; and, 
thank Heaven ! she had left olf weepers in the evening. 
What a difference there was between lace and stiff 
crimped muslin ; and how young she looked. 

The rapidity of thought is immeasurable, the velocity 
of its vibration untranslatable in terms of mere human 
flesh and blood. These thoughts and millions of others 
suggested by the whole entourage which in a second be- 
came part of Ned Blackborough ’s life-experience, passed 
into his mind and left him free at once to listen to his 
cousin’s gay — 

“ Here’s Ned! I’ll appeal to him! Do you think it 
fair that we women shouldn’t have votes? ” 

“We shall have to settle our terminology first, Helen,” 
he replied in the same tone. ‘ ‘ What is fair ? I presume 
what Mrs. Tressilian considers to be right.” 

“ That isn’t fair if you like,” she retorted. “ Fair 
is ” — ^she paused. 

“ Exactly so! ” laughed Peter Ramsay. “ Is there 
an outside standard or is there not? That is the 
question. ’ ’ 

Mr. Hirsch, who always wore white waistcoats in the 
evening (they were not so becoming as black ones) an- 
swered it. 

“ Of course there is a standard — the general consen- 
sus of opinion.” 

‘ ‘ Made up of units ? ’ ’ suggested Dr. Ramsay. 

Quite so ! ” retorted the financier, ‘ ‘ but it gives the 
limit of safety. Between certain lines you can negotiate 
— even on the Stock Exchange, ha, ha! ” His laugh was 
curiously explosive and shook him from head to foot. 

“ But surely there is a standard,” said Helen softly. 

“ There is a standard which, collectively, we accept. 


A SOyEREIGN REMEDY 


73 


Helen. It comes back in the end to our personal verdict, 
I ’m afraid, ’ ’ said her cousin, ‘ ‘ and it is curious how that 
verdict varies,” he continued addressing Mr. Hirsch. 
“ You, I expect, believe in the law of supply and demand. 
Now, I feel, somehow, that if I were to charge a thousand 
pounds for a glass of water which a distracted husband 
wanted for his dying wife, I should be doing a detest- 
ably mean thing, even though the man was quite willing 
and able to pay for it. ’ ’ There was a pause. 

“ That is rather a stiff example,” said Ted Crutten- 
den; ‘‘ but theoretically, a man surely has the right to 
get the best price he can for his wares; without that 
axiom commerce would come to an end. ’ ’ 

“ What would the world be without it, I wonder? ” 
remarked Dr. Ramsay. Supposing it was made penal 
for any one to take more than ten per cent, profit ” 

“ I should be a pauper,” laughed Mr. Hirsch, his 
bright eyes dancing. That would not suit me at all. 
Why, I should have nothing over to give away, and 
my charities cover my sins. Imagine it, a world where 
there was no ^ coup/ where your brains were of no use 
to you. Pah! ” He poured himself out a glass 
of water abstractedly, and drank it as if to take away 
the taste. 

He was in great form that night, the rebuff of Helen ’s 
refusal to drive home with him having acted on his 
abundant vitality much as the attempt of a rival on the 
Stock Exchange to limit his freedom of action would 
have done, that is, it stimulated his determination to do 
as he chose. 

And the others seemed in high spirits also, so that 
even Ned forgot the very existence of the Seaview Hotel, 
until some one said laughingly that there must be elec- 
tricity in the air, or magnetism, or hypnotism, and sug- 
gested a seance of some kind. 

No,” cried Lady Wrexham, who posed as being well 
in with the Psychical Research Society. Let us crystal 
gaze — or stay, a magic mirror. Only a little ink in the 
palm of the hand, Mrs. Tresillian. It so often comes off 


74 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


when I’m in the room, and I’m sure you could ‘ scry,’ 
I see it in your eyes.” 

Helen’s caught Dr. Ramsay’s instantly, almost resent- 
fully, but he was silent. 

“ Perhaps I’m a witch also, who knows? ” she said, 
speaking at him. ‘ ‘ Old Betty Cam was an ancestress of 
ours, wasn’t she, father? and she was the devil’s own war- 
lock. But you shan’t be disappointed. Lady Wrexham. 
There is a real magical crystal that came from Thibet 
somewhere in the house. I will find it for you to-morrow, 
or rather to-day, for it is past twelve o ’clock. Time for 
every one who isn ’t a witch to be in her bed, surely. ’ ’ 

There was a decision about the remark which would 
not be gainsaid, so the ladies, some with, some without 
lights, dawdled upstairs like wise and foolish virgins, 
calling down jokes and good-nights to the men on their 
way to the billiard-room, while Ned Blackborough, seiz- 
ing his opportunity, waylaid Mr. Hirsch and begged for 
five minutes in Sir Geoffrey’s den. 

“ About the hotel,” echoed Mr. Hirsch when Ned 
broached the subject. “ Pardon! But excuse me if I 
change my cigarette for a cigar. There is always so 
much to be said concerning that business. ’ ’ 

He spoke with a smile, but his face had hardened at 
once, and Ned, listening, could not but admire his com- 
panion’s uncompromising directness. He was aware of 
course, he said, that the money Sir Geoffrey had in- 
vested was a loan from Lord Blackborough, and there- 
fore he treated him, as a shareholder, a large shareholder, 
with absolute freedom. 

Well! Mr. Hirsch had found Sir Geoffrey in difficul- 
ties, and had helped him. Why? Because, having a 
great penchant for Mrs. Tressilian, he was glad to be of 
use. The hotel would practically have to be rebuilt. At 
present its condition would disgrace a jerry-built villa 
near London. And they had perpetrated this inconceiv- 
able sham in full face of the Atlantic. 

But it was always the way when such schemes were 
not properly floated at first. There never was enough 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


75 


money to allow for the inevitable leakage. Then little 
men had little ways, and the methods of a tuppenny-ha' 
penny ring, like this had been, were simply horrible. 

But the site was gigantic, absolutely gigantic, and if 
you could only get rid of that bloated mechanic Jenkin 
and his gang, you could make anything of it. But they 
were incurably vulgar — they had wanted a gramaphone 
in the hall, they allowed one in the steward 's room. 

The words reminded Ned that, as he walked up to 
the hotel, lost in admiration of that marvellous sea surg- 
ing against the sheer cliff, he had been greeted by shrieks 
of laughter and the sound of a double shuffle done to 
the latest music hall “ catch on." And he smiled. 
Hirsch was right. It was incurably vulgar. Who was 
it who said that, since nowadays he had to choose between 
solitude and vulgarity, he chose the former? 

Mr. Hirsch 's cigar had actually gone out in his irri- 
tation, but he was alight again and went on. 

Regarding the insurance? Yes. He had made a tem- 
porary arrangement to secure his own money and Sir 
Geoffrey’s, and a little over; you could secure anything 
nowadays by a high enough premium. In fact, the best 
thing that could happen now, if he might be excused for 
saying so, was — was a fresh start — ^without Jenkin ! The 
hotel would practically have to be rebuilt anyhow at 
the end of the season. Meanwhile, regarding the electric 
light. It was bad — ^that was Jenkin again — but they 
were exercising extreme care, and could do no more. 

“ But supposing,” began Ned. 

“ My dear Lord Blackborough, " said Mr. Hirsch, with 
a curious smile as he arose and pulled down his white 
waistcoat, “ I never deal in suppositions. As a business 
man, I can't afford it. I know this has been worrying 
Sir Geoffrey, who has old-fashioned ideas of responsibil- 
ity, but — ah! here he comes. I was just saying, sir, 
how disturbed you were this morning about the slight 
alarm at the Seaview last night. But, as I told you, it 
really lessens the odds of its occurring again. To make 
any fuss just at present, when you need to get all the 


76 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


money you can in order to start the thing fair, would 
be suicidal. I don’t, in fact, see that we are bound to 
do any more than we are doing. There is a certain risk 
in all large buildings as badly supplied with water as 
this one is. But surely one must credit people with eyes. 
Caveat Emptor! Lord Blackborough, Caveat Emptor! 
That immoral but comfortable piece of wisdom is the 
backbone of all reasonable speculation. Good-night. If 
I may, I’ll have some whisky and water in the billiard 
room on my way upstairs.” 

Ned came back from the door and looked at his uncle. 

“ Well, sir,” he said, “ what is to be done? ” 

Sir Geoffrey’s face was a study of irresolution. 
“ Let’s leave it till to-morrow, Ned,” he said at last; 
“ the night will bring wisdom. But I expect Hirsch is 
right. He has a wonderfully clear head; and I only 
wish that Helen ” 

“ I would leave Helen out of the business if I were 
you, sir, ’ ’ interrupted Ned angrily. 

It was intolerable to think of her as possible part pay- 
ment. As he lit his candle and made his way to the old 
wing, ‘ ‘ among the ruins, ’ ’ as she called it, he told him- 
self that he had half a mind to buy out all other interests 
and spend an extra thousand or two in throwing the 
whole gim-crack building over the cliffs. And it was all 
so useless ! Helen didn ’t want the money ; she was crav- 
ing to live on an hospital nurse’s pay. 

” Ned,” said a voice at the door, just as he had taken 
off his coat, “ let me in, please, I must see you.” 

It was Helen herself. Her eyes were blazing bright, 
her face was pale. She had flung a white shawl over her 
bare shoulders, yet she shivered. 

“ Ned,” she said swiftly, “ thank God you’re here! 
You must come with me — you will, won’t you? Put on 
your thick shoes and come as you are. It is quite warm 
— there is only a fog.” 

“ Come,” he echoed, “ come where? ” 

She seemed a trifle confused, and passed her hand over 
her forehead. 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


77 

‘‘ Down to the point, of course; they must be 
warned ” 

‘ ‘ W arned of what ? What have you heard ? ’ ’ 

I didn ’t hear, I saw. Ah ! do come quick, I ought to 
be there, you know, showing a light. ’ ’ 

She spoke in curiously even tones, and for an instant 
Ned thought she was sleep-walking or dreaming. One 
of those deadly dreams of excessive hurry in which, no 
matter what you do, thought leaves the labouring body 
far behind. 

“You saw it! But where, and what? 

She was silent for a second, looking at him half-dazed, 
then she spoke quite naturally. ‘ ‘ It was in the crystal — 
the one they brought from Thibet. He said I could, and 
so I saw ” 

Suddenly her whole bearing changed. 

“ Fire! fire! fire! ” The cry, loud and clear, came as 
she turned and fled, he after her down the dark passage, 
led by the glimmer of her white gown. 

Had she gone mad, or had she really seen something? 

There was a little outside door, once the postern gate 
of the old Keep, which opened at the angle of the wing 
and the main part of the house. He followed her 
through that, losing her almost immediately in the dense 
white fog which clung to the damp walls. The windows 
of Sir Geoffrey’s study were open, and as he ran past 
them, following the path, he heard something which sent 
the blood in a wild leap through his veins. It was a 
furious insistent ringing of the telephone call bell, which 
Sir Geoffrey, in his first delight with his new toy on the 
point, had put in so that he might be constantly in touch 
with the workmen. 

Then something was wrong. What? As he spurted 
ahead towards Helen ’s ghost-like figure seen in the clearer 
atmosphere beyond, he asked himself how she could have 
known. 

“ Where are you going? ” he called breathlessly, 

‘ ‘ that isn ’t the way to the hotel. ’ ’ 

She turned for a moment, then ran on, her voice com- 


78 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


ing back to him, ‘‘It is the light — ^the light on Betty 
Cam’s chair — the light for the ship.” 

‘ ‘ Helen ! Helen ! go back, what good can you do ? Let 
me go and see,” he called, striving desperately to over- 
take her; but she was as swift as a hare, and so dimly 
seen, too, dodging about among those huge boulders. And 
everywhere the sea-fog hung thick. “ Helen! Helen! ” 
His cry came back to him, but no other sound did he 
hear save the rising roar of the waves as he neared the 
clilf. 

Right ahead of him rose Betty Cam’s chair. Well! if 
she was going there he would catch her up then ; and he 
would see — yes ! he would see from there if anything was 
wrong. 

For a moment he saw her above him, — on the sky-line 
was it? And, if so, why was the sky so clear? Was 
there a glow ? Great God ! there was ! a glow in the sky 
and at her feet. 

“ Helen! Helen! ” he cried as he sped on. “ Tell 
me, what is it? ” 

There was no answer, but the next instant he had 
gained the crest, and could see. It was fire, but fire seen 
through fog. The strangest sight — a huge vignette, a 
magic-lantern slide, sharp in the centre, fading to an 
aureole. Close as they were, he could see nothing save 
dim shadows in the blaze of light. 

“ The ship! the ship! It is coming so fast — oh! so 
fast, ’ ’ said a monotonous voice beside him. Helen — Good 
God ! how ill she looked, all unlike herself — was seated on 
Betty Cam’s chair, pointing with her right hand far 
out to sea. 

“ Nell! ” he said swiftly, “ Come! I can’t leave you 
here, and I must get down at once, the road’s just below 
us, they will need all the help ” 

As he spoke he knew some was coming, for a live spark 
showed swift curving through the white fog where the 
road should be, racing like a great fuse to the heart of a 
mine. It must be a motor — Hirsch ’s most likely — Thank 
Heaven he was at least a man of action ! Yes, that was 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 79 

his voice coming back as the light flashed, raced, dis- 
appeared. 

‘ ‘ For God ’s sake, be calm, sir, we Ve done all we could, 
we’ll do all we can! ” 

Not true! not true! except the last. “ Helen! ” he 
cried roughly, ‘ ‘ your father — come ! ’ ’ 

Did she smile? He did not wait to make certain, but 
leaving her, dashed down the hill. Halfway he turned 
doubtfully, hoping she had followed him; but, already 
almost lost in the mist, he saw the lonely figure with 
the faint glow about it still seated on Betty Cam’s 
chair. 

As he dashed on again a curious shuddering boom 
rolled through the fog. He wondered vaguely what it 
was, but his whole mind was set on that nebulous circle 
of flaming light. He was nearer now, the vignetting 
grew sharper, towers and balconies began to loom luridly, 
beset by tongues of flame. It must be all on fire — a wide 
sweep from end to end. 

Again that shuddering boom — ^what was it ? My God ! 
Could Helen be right again, and was it a ship in dis- 
tress? As he ran, he counted ten, twenty, thirty, forty, 
fifty, fifty-five, sixty. A ship ! a ship, indeed ! Was there 
to be no ending or horrors ? He was on the upward rise 
now. The aureole had gone. He could see the flames 
leaping while the crowd stood still. 

A large crowd, thank God! so they must be all out 
surely ! 

He met a man running back, calling as he ran, A 
ship in distress on the rocks — the life-boat — more help 
needed there, come! ” 

‘ ‘ Are they all out ? ” he shouted, and the man nodded 
as he ran. 

A relief, indeed! 

He slackened speed, as more fisher-folk ran past him 
back to their work, their trade. 

All out ! my God ! what a relief ! No ! by Heaven ! There 
was a sudden stir in the crowd, and high upon the 
furthermost seaword balcony, as yet untouched by the 


80 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


flames, a little white figure showed bending over the bal- 
ustrade, and calling to some one below. 

The answer reached him, making him leap forward — 

‘ ‘ All right, little lady ! I 'm coming ! ’ ^ 

There was a struggle ahead of him, a tall figure break- 
ing loose from hands that would have held it back ; and 
then his uncle 

“ For God’s sake,” he shouted as he ran — “ think of 
Helen! ” 

The voice arrested Sir Geoffrey for a second, and Ned 
never forgot the look of that scared, kindly, distraught 
face he saw for a moment. 

“ I am thinking of her,” came the answer. Then the 
pause ended. 

Ned was after him without a moment’s consideration; 
life seemed so small a thing to him that he could not stop 
to think of it ; but Ted Cruttenden sprang forward, also, 
to hold him back. The Fates did that, however, for as 
he would have plunged into the burning house, the up- 
per hinge of one of the wide hall doors gave way, and as 
it swung inwards with a crash, just touched Ned’s fore- 
arm, and snapped it like a bulrush. 

As he staggered, Ted had hold of him. “You can’t,” 
he said. “ He knows every turn, and may do it yet if 
the stairs stand. It ’s madness for you. And my God 1 
there ’s Mrs. Tresillian. Why did they let her come ? we 
didn’t tell her on purpose ” 

Ned, dazed with a pain he had hardly located, had 
only time to wonder stupidly how she had managed to 
change her dress — ^she wore a coat and skirt — before 
she was beside him clinging to his unhurt arm. 

“ Father! ” she said. “ Ned, where is father? ” 

He shook his head. ‘ ‘ Doing his duty, I suppose, ’ ’ he 
muttered ; “ I tried to follow, but got hurt. Try to keep 
calm if you can, Nell, there’s a chance still.” 

Yes! a chance, if the fire-proof stairs were fire-proof. 
She stood quiet, silent; only once he heard her say to 
herself, ‘ ‘ Why did I wait — oh ! why didn ’t I come at 
once? ” 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


81 


So the minutes passed, and the crowds of Camhaven 
fisherfolk giving up hope of more excitement here to- 
night, sought it elsewhere, though already a murmur 
had come out of the fog that there was no immediate 
danger ; a big ship was on the sunken rocks, and had es- 
tablished communication with the shore. That was all. 

And still the minutes passed, and Ned stood holding 
Helen ’s hand in his. 

Yet there was no sign of returning feet upon the fire- 
proof stair. 

A little breeze springing up had drifted the smoke 
south-west, obscuring the balcony so they could see 
nothing. 

Those who knew her began to look at her with pitying 
eyes. Then in an instant something in which all else 
was forgotten — a sharp sound like the crack of a rifle, 
a quick upburst of sparks, then a great crash, and for a 
few moments silence and darkness. 

The roof had fallen in. 

“ 1 11 take her home. Lord Blackborough, ’ ’ said Peter 
Ramsay, for all her height lifting her easily. “ You will 
be wanted here. Mr. Hirsch, I may use your motor ? ’ ’ 
Broken,’’ replied Mr. Hirsch, who was as white as 
a sheet, the tears almost running down his cheeks. ‘‘ I 
drove it myself, and I didn’t understand, but the Wrex- 
ham’s is here. My God! what a frightful thing — 
sJirecklich 1 schrecklich ! ’ ’ His voice shook ; these things 
were not in the bond. 

Yet one bond had been kept, for in an hour’s time, 
when the flames had eaten their full of the frail thing 
which had dared to usurp Cam’s point, they found Sir 
Geoffrey half-way down the stair caught in a trap be- 
tween two gaps in what had been scheduled as a fire-proof 
staircase. 

He held the child in his arms, her head, wrapped in his 
coat to preserve her from the smoke, nestled close upon 
his breast. 

For ever never an-naye! ” That promise anyhow 
had been kept as a Pentreath should have kept it! 


CHAPTER VII 


Early dawn in a house where the new-dead lie unheed- 
ing whether it be darkness or day. Dawn when those 
who have seen the light of life fade from a beloved face 
watch the slow sunlight steal once more over the edge 
of the world, and claim all things for its own. 

Yet watching alone, how peaceful such a dawn may be, 
when one can face death, not as a thing apart, but as a 
part of life; when there is no need to cloud its kindly 
form with sentimentalities, when we need not drug our- 
selves into disregarding its dignity by some narcotic of 
belief in life to come, when it is enough to feel that this 
life has passed where all life goes. 

In the old Keep, however, where the master lay dead 
in his study among his fishing-rods and guns, as they 
had left him till the inquest should be over, there was 
no one near enough to the dead man so to watch, for 
Helen was still unconscious in her room upstairs. Dr. 
Ramsay, whose hands were full with many claimants on 
his care, spoke of a severe nervous crisis, which had evi- 
dently been coming on for some time. Her best chance 
was this semi-cataleptic state from which she would re- 
cover in her own good time. So she lay in her simple 
white room, on her simple little bed, and the dawn stole 
in slowly through the open window bringing the day- 
spring song of birds with it. But she was not there. 
She might have been with her father for all the by- 
standers could tell. 

Ned, his face drawn with pain from the fractured arm 
over which Dr. Ramsay had instantly looked severe, but 
for which Ned refused to lay himself up absolutely until 
certain necessary details had been arranged, looked in 

82 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


83 


and envied her. He had told the doctor of her visit to 
his room, and his wild stern-chase of her to Betty Cam’^ 
chair, and of his wonder — a wonder that grew as he 
thought over it — as to how she could possibly have got 
home, changed her dress and come on in the Wrexham’s 
motor in so short a space of time. Still she had done it. 

Evidently she had done it, the doctor had replied 
guardedly, and there, in the stress of many calls, the 
subject had dropped. 

And yet as Ned went about giving orders in hopes 
of lessening anxieties and distress, he was remembering 
the strange unkenned look he had noticed on his cousin ’s 
face. Was it possible that — No ! it was impossible. Any- 
how he had no time to think it over as yet. 

The roll-call of inmates had, thank Heaven! been on 
the whole satisfactory. Only two had failed to answer. 
Mrs. Massingham and, curiously enough, his friend Char- 
teris, who had arranged to leave the next morning when 
his attack of Indian fever should have passed away. The 
only man who knew of the danger ! It was a coincidence 
certainly. As for Mrs. Massingham, the fright must 
have brought on one of her heart attacks ; else there was 
no reason why she should not have escaped, taking Maidie 
with her ; it had not been a good life anyhow. But what 
an awful home-coming for the husband ! He might arrive 
that very day, but it would be better if he did not. Not 
for a few days, till the whole thing, body and soul alike, 
should have gone out of ken for ever. 

Then there was the ship. It was a transport from In- 
dia, a bit out of its course through having damaged an 
engine. It had mistaken the fire for the lighthouse 
further west, and had struck lightly on a sunken rock 
just off the headland beyond Cam’s Bay. It seemed none 
the worse, and would most likely float off in the next tide 
or two as the wind strengthened. In the meantime that 
would entail another funeral, as they had had a death on 
board that night. 

So much Mr. Hirsch told Ned, when the latter went to 
see him about wiring to the office of the new company. 


84 


A SOVEREIGN EEMEDT 


^ ‘ I’ve looked to that, ’ ’ he replied curtly, ‘ ‘ and I must 
get all these ” (a perfect pile of forms lay beside him) 
“off at once; only the nuisance is my motor is 
damaged. ’ ’ 

“ Ted Cruttenden is cycling with mine,” began Ned. 

Mr. Hirsch looked up quickly — “ You will be careful, 
won’t you? ” 

“ I won’t foul my own nest more than I can help,” 
said Ned bitterly. 

‘ ‘ That ’s right ! And you know ’ ’ Mr. Hirsch was 

still writing hurriedly — ‘ ‘ I don ’t believe it was the wires 
at all. It certainly began in the back premises, and they 
tell me the cook was dead drunk after dinner, and half 
the servants as well — they were dancing break-downs to 
the gramaphone. ’ ’ 

“ That doesn’t take away the taste,” burst out Ned 
passionately, “ or take away the responsibility for hav- 
ing put such a ghastly monstrosity on that point, before 
that sea, under the stars of heaven ” 

Mr. Hirsch looked up with the surprised kindly look 
an elder gives to a child who has suddenly burst out 
crying over a broken toy. 

“ You really ought to go to bed. Lord Blackborough, ” 
he said. “ All this is so exhausting to the nerves. I 
shall do so, when I have sent oft' my telegrams.” 

Was it the roll of the double r which made Ned in- 
clined to kick Mr. Hirsch? It was a relief when Ted 
Cruttenden ended the conversation by entering in the si- 
lent, unobtrusive way, which people adopt in the house 
of mourning. 

‘ ‘ Messages ready ? ” he asked. 

“ Mine are! Mr. Hirsch has some. I suppose you 
wanted to be off. It’s a shocking bad road to Haverton,” 
remarked Ned, full of ill-humour as he left the room. 

“ I shall not go to Haverton though,” said Ted. “ I 
shall save time by cycling to Wellhampton. Five miles 
further, but there’s an all-night office, and it seems a 
pity to waste time till eight o ’clock. ’ ’ 

“ Good,” nodded Mr. Hirsch, “ though ” here he 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


85 


gave one of his short explosive laughs — I am in no 
particular hurry. I must give Jenkin time — good Lord, 
what a relief to get rid of Jenkin — ahem! ” He pulled 
himself up hurriedly and went on writing. 

It was the first time Ted had come to close quarters 
with a millionaire, a millionaire too of European repu- 
tation as a financier more than as mere money seeker, and 
the effect was stimulating. It roused his admiration, his 
imagination. He stood at the window, waiting and 
watching Mr. Hirsch’s head — it was growing, in truth, 
a trifle bald at the crown — as it bent over his papers 
and thinking what it must feel like to possess the art of 
transmuting baser things to gold. 

“ I will give you a sovereign,” began the great man 
condescendingly. ‘ ‘ One is in cipher, and that costs. The 
change in stamps, if you please. I have many letters to 
write. ^ ^ 

Typical of the man, thought Ted Cruttenden, while 
Mr. Hirsch, noticing how careful the young man was in 
discriminating between his and Lord Blackborough ’s 
telegrams, but putting them into different pockets, 
smiled. “ You are metodical, I see,” he remarked, with 
just that faint slur over the th which occasionally told 
he was not English. ‘ ‘ It is a great gift in business. ’ ^ 

Ted smiled also, and flushed with pleasure, since Mr. 
Hirsch’s praise was worth having; and so, then and 
there, almost as if some chemical affinity had manifested 
itself between the molecules composing his brain and Mr. 
Hirsch’s, he made up his mind to try and follow his ex- 
ample. He was no fool; other people succeeded, why 
not he? 

As he rode off his mind was full of this new determi- 
nation. And yet, one short week ago he had thought 
himself uncommonly lucky to have pushed himself so 
far up the ladder as to be in receipt of a hundred and 
fifty pounds a year. For it must not be forgotten that he 
was no-man’s son. His mother had refused to give his 
father’s name. When she lay dying, and her people, 
seeking to trick her, asked what name the child should 


86 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


be called, she had smiled derisively at them. “ Edward 
Cruttenden, of course,” had been her reply, the latter 
being her own name, a common enough one in the Black . 
Country. 

Ted had thought all this out many times ; yet it came 
back to him — with no rancour against his mother, but a 
good deal against his unknown father. On this fine June 
morning as he made his way across the high Cornish 
tableland, dipping down — with both brakes on — into 
some steep combe and thereinafter climbing out of it 
again, pushing his bicycle. 

If he had only begun earlier to think about making 
money, he would have had a better chance with Aura. 
No doubt at his age Hirsch had been operating on the 
Exchange and promoting companies. 

Promoting ! Operating ! These were words indeed ! 

But it must be uphill work — ^so was this last combe; 
for it was to be one of those hot June days, when the 
freshness of dawn is gone in half an hour, and the very 
grass has no trace of dew on it. 

He sat down at the top of the hill and drew out his 
handkerchief in order to mop his face. 

In doing so one of Mr. Hirsch ^s telegrams came out also 
and fluttered to the ground. 

It was the one in cipher, and, as he glanced at it, he 
found that by a pure chance he knew it, or something 
very like it. His little friend and admirer in the stock- 
broker's office was an expert in ciphers, and had shown 
him several. This — one of the easiest — amongst the 
number. 

He could not choose but read the first word, 

Buy.” 

Buy ! That was curious. He should have expected it 
tobe sell.” 

Buy what ? 

Buy Sea-views all below five shillings. Hirsch. 

He sat looking at the words for some time, puzzled, 
then rode on, his mind busy with the problem; but the 
puzzle remained until, as he was going into the telegraph 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


87 


office at Wellhampton, he met Mr. Jenkin coming out. 
Then the memory of Mr. Hirsch ’s laugh of relief at ‘ ‘ get- 
ting rid of Jenkin,” which he had hardly noticed at the 
time, came back to him. Jenkin apparently was to be 
given time to sell, while Mr. Hirsch was to buy. It was a 
straight lead-over. What if he were to follow it even to 
the extent of but a hundred pounds? His heart gave a 
great throb; he felt as a man might, when put on a 
horse for the first time and the reins given into his hand. 
Who was to prevent him going where he chose — except, 
of course, the horse ! 

He returned to the Keep by breakfast time, but for a 
wonder he had no appetite, since he was of that healthy 
strong-nerved sort to whom even personal sorrow comes 
as an expenditure of force which requires recuperation. 
And there was no personal feeling in this tragedy except 
for Blackborough ’s share in it ; for that he was unf eign- 
edly sorry. He, however, had been finally ordered to his 
room by Dr. Ramsay who was too busy to speak to any 
one. The Wrexhams left early, followed at intervals by 
the other guests, and the Keep settled down into the 
slack collapse which always follows on the excitement of 
a catastrophe. The servants seemed to remember they 
had been up all night ; Mr. Hirsch was the only person 
who was really awake, but Ted did not somehow care to 
see Mr. Hirsch ; though as the day wore on and the latter 
went off once more to Cam’s point, Ted took down some 
telegrams which had come for him, and watched him 
read them anxiously. They seemed satisfactory, but by 
this time Ted was telling himself he had behaved like a 
fool in sending that wdre to his friend on the Stock Ex- 
change. 

The desolation on the point, where workmen were still 
searching for any traces of Mr. Charteris’ body, made 
him still more depressed, so he strolled over to Cams- 
haven, thereby letting himself in for additional dreari- 
ness ; since, just as he abutted on the little quay, he saw 
one of the transport’s boats, disembarking a coffin. The 
dead officer, of course. Poor chap, to die like that within 


88 


A SOYEREIG^N REMEDY 


sight of home was rough luck. He stood with bared head 
watching the guard of honour form up and prepare to 
take the body to the church, where it was to lie until di- 
rections came by wire from the relatives. 

“You don’t happen to know the name? ” he asked 
of the local pilot who was close beside him. 

“ Not for sure, sir,” he replied, “ tho’ I did hear’m 
say Massin’ham; same name as the poor madam they 
people burnt in her bed las’ night.” 

‘ ‘ Massingham ! ’ ’ echoed Ted — ‘ ‘ that is very curious. ’ ’ 

It was. Indeed, Mr. Hirsch, coming back to the Keep 
half an hour afterwards, was quite pale, and called for 
a whisky-and-soda before he could explain to Dr. Ramsay 
the extraordinary coincidence of Major Massingham ’s 
body being brought in for burial to Camshaven, where 
those of his poor wife and child already awaited him 
as it were. But he, Mr. Hirsch, had seen the captain of 
the transport, and everything was quite simple — terribly 
simple. Major Massingham had come on board at Bom- 
bay ill, but had not, however, let his people know of his 
illness, as he expected the voyage to set him up. He had 
unfortunately taken a chill off Gibraltar: pneumonia 
had set in, and in his delirium he had constantly talked 
of his wife and child, and begged not to be buried at 
sea. The latter idea had been quite an obsession with 
him ; almost the last words he spoke being ‘ ‘ Not at sea — 
not at sea ! ’ ’ That had been two hours before the ship 
struck, and when they discovered there was no danger, 
it had seemed another curious coincidence to ensure 
poor Massingham ’s wish. But the whole affair 
was . . . 

Here Mr. Hirsch became quite unintelligible in his ad- 
mixture of English and German. 

“It is certainly — curious,” assented Dr. Ramsay 
thoughtfully; “ very curious. But it is just as well he 
should come home dead — the news would have broken 
him. By the way, I don ’t want Lord Blackborough dis- 
turbed. There is a nasty splinter that will give trouble ; 
and he was in such pain. I ordered a sleeping-draught. 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 89 

Indeed ” Here he smiled. “ I am thinking of a 

sleep myself till dinner time.” 

“ I also,” yawned Mr. Hirsch. Mein Gott! Trag- 
edy is fatiguing off the stage as well as on it, and this 
poor Major Massingham . . . Himmel! es ist un-he-greif- 
Uch-auf-erleghar! ” And he went off to his room, look- 
ing a perfect wreck, aged by ten years ; for deep down 
below the hard shell which grubbing for gold requires, 
his heart was soft. And these things were uncomfort- 
able — they were not in the bond — they belonged to a 
spiritual life in which he had no part. 

They weighed heavily on Ted Cruttenden also, for he 
had the Englishman’s innate antagonism to anything 
which hints at the unknown, anything which might sug- 
gest a wider outlook than the one he already possesses. 
But the hundred pounds he had adventured, following 
Mr. Hirsch ’s lead, weighed on him still more heavily. 
Why had he been so impulsive? At the most he could 
gain three hundred; and what would Mr. Hirsch say if 
it were to come out ? Not that it mattered, since he was 
not likely to see much more of Mr. Hirsch, for he must 
go back to Blackborough next morning. So, after a time, 
he also sought his room and a rest. 

Dr. Ramsay, however, was deprived of his; for, look- 
ing in while passing to see how Lord Blackborough fared, 
he found him not only wide awake, but greatly excited 
by the news which a servant had brought him. 

Curse the fool! ” said Peter Ramsay vexedly. “ I 
made sure you would be asleep. Yes! it is extremely 
curious, but ” 

“ What does it mean, doctor — that’s what I want to 
know,” burst in Ned. What is it, this strange some- 
thing which every now and again seems to show us a 
solemn, shrouded face, and then disappears in mocking, 
devilish laughter — in charlatans’ tricks? ” 

Dr. Ramsay shook his head. If I could tell you 
that. Lord Blackborough, I — well! For one thing, I 
should be the richest man in the world. All we doctors 
can say is that there is something — something which can 


90 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


be explained away if one chooses to explain it away. 
But the explanation isn’t scientific. It is easy to say a 
man is mad because he believes himself to be the Emperor 
of China, but what about the question, ‘ Why does a 
man think he is the Emperor of China when he is mad ? ’ 
We have got to answer that, and show what it is which in- 
duces delusions and hysteria, and why hypnotic sleep 
causes certain specific alterations in the body corporate, 
as it does. But we ’ve only just woke up to the fact that 
we stand on the verge of some great discovery; we’ve 
only just begun to question the nerve centres, and see 
the incalculable power of suggestion. Now take this case 
of your cousin’s,” he continued eagerly. “ Whatever it 
may or may not be, it is certain that I suggested to her 
first that she was mentally unstable; second, that she 
might be able to project herself . . . then Lady Wrexham 
slips in with her crystal-gazing suggestion — and — and 
the thing is done.” 

“ There is something else,” said Ned slowly, almost 
reluctantly, “ which might — we were talking of old 
Betty Cam in the morning — ^she and I — and I told her it 
wasn’t safe for her to be always watching the sea — I 

warned her — in joke of course — of her hereditary ” 

Here he broke off impatiently. ‘ ‘ But it is of no use talk- 
ing — the thing is frankly — impossible. ’ ’ 

“ Hardly that,” remarked Dr. Ramsay dryly. We 
have to learn, apparently, that many things are pos- 
sible — at times. ’ ’ 

Ned looked at him curiously. “ One wouldn’t credit 
you with such beliefs, Ramsay,” he said. 

“ I don’t credit them myself,” replied the doctor 
shortly. ‘ ‘ Personally I wish these phenomena didn ’t ex- 
ist. They complicate the equation of life tremendously. 
But they are there. It is no use dismissing them as hys- 
terical manifestations. That only alters the title of the 
problem, and we have to refer to the phenomena again 
under the heading ‘ What is hysteria? ’ ” 

‘ ‘ Of one thing I am certain, ’ ’ remarked Ned suddenly, 
with conviction : ‘ Mt was not Helen altogether, as she is 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


91 


now, whom I left in Betty Cam’s chair last night. I 
have been going over the whole incident in my mind, and 
I am conscious of having had a sense all through that 
there was something unkenned, something not quite 
real ” 

“ The question is,” put in Dr. Ramsay, “ how much 
she will remember when she wakes, and that cannot be 
very long now, for she was much more normal when I 
went in to see her last, two hours ago. I shall look in 
again as I go upstairs. ’ ’ 

“ I hope she will remember nothing,” said Ned 
quickly. 

Peter Ramsay shook his head. “ It may be every- 
thing; you cannot possibly tell ” he broke off as a 

knock was heard at the door, and a voice said, ‘‘ May I 
come in ? ” “ My God ! ” he continued, ‘ ^ there she is ! ” 

It was indeed Helen who, entering as he held open the 
door, passed swiftly to her cousin ’s side. 

Poor Ned! ” she said, her face, on which showed 
the marks of recent tears, full of a grateful, affectionate 
solicitude. ‘ ^ How foolish it has been of me to leave you 
to bear the brunt of it all; but I am all right now, and 
shall manage. He ought to be in bed, oughtn’t he? ” 
she continued, her eyes narrowing a little as they met 
Peter Ramsay’s, her whole expression showing for an 
instant a half-puzzled pain, as if she sought for some 
memory of past trouble. I am sure you think so — 
don ’t you ? ’ ’ 

I think so very much indeed, Mrs. Tressilian,” he 
replied. ^ ‘ Y our cousin ’s arm ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Poor arm ! ’ ’ she interrupted softly, ‘ ‘ that was 
broken before I came down — I was asleep, I suppose, 
when they called me — it seems so strange that I could 
have slept, and I seem to have forgotten everything ex- 
cept the awful suspense; then the awful night on the 
point — but — but you couldn ’t have saved him, Ned. It 
was the stairs — if only they had been fireproof 1 — for he 
knew every turn. I — I have been down to see him, Ned, 
and he looks so peaceful — ^so content. You see he had 


92 


A ISOVEBEIGN REMEDY 


done all he could — all a Pentreath should have done — 
so — so it is best. And now, dear, you really must go to 
bed. I can manage nicely. I will send to meet the 
Massinghams — poor souls! — how terribly sad, and how 
inexplicable it all is 1 ” 

Inexplicable indeed ! They looked at each other 
silently. 

She evidently knew all that they knew, but of what 
they did not know she also knew nothing. The interval 
between the time when she had passed upstairs to her 
room, joking and laughing with the others, and her first 
sight of the halo of fire had simply lapsed into a great 
suspense. 

It was as well. Dr. Ramsay admitted to himself, and 
yet he felt annoyed. For, looking at Helen Tressilian’s 
face, he recognised that his chance — and the chance of 
science was over. 

In all probability that would be her one solitary in- 
trusion into the unknown dimension which whetted his 
curiosity so much. She was normal now ; she might con- 
ceivably marry some deserving idiot, and settle down to 
half a dozen children. She might even become a nurse ! 

All things were possible to the calm self-possession 
with which she insisted on rest for them both. So, in 
an evil temper, he followed her advice. 

Meanwhile Ted Cruttenden, after wandering about 
aimlessly, uncertain whether to bless or curse himself 
for his morning’s work, had also sought rest, and was 
asleep dreaming of Aura. Aura, as he had seen her in 
her blue linen smock and sandals, Aura as he could pic- 
ture her in pink satin and diamonds. Which was the 
most beautiful, the most beautified? He scarcely knew. 
When he felt inclined to bless himself, it was because 
he could picture her in the latter; when curses came it 
was because he regretted the former. 

So to him in troubled slumber, came a knock at the 
door. 

‘ ‘ Come in, ’ ’ he called drowsily ; then sat up with beat- 
ing heart on the edge of his bed, feeling for his slippers 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


93 


with his feet. He did not know that the dapper little fig- 
ure at the door was to him Mephistopheles, that he was 
about to sell his soul to the devil; but he was vaguely 
conscious of an approaching crisis in his life. 

“ Soh/ my young friend, you have bought Sea View 
shares! Why? ” 

The room was growing dark. There was a wide inter- 
val of shadowy light from the windows between the 
young man as, having found mental and bodily foothold, 
he stood coatless, defiant, as if prepared to fight Pate, 
and Mr. Hirsch decently robed for dinner, and with, as 
ever, the large white flower of a blameless life in his but- 
ton-hole. Through the open window the mellow pipe of 
a blackbird, full of the glad song of wood and dale, 
forced its way insistently. The memory of it lingered 
with Ted always. In after years that joyous invitation 
to the wilds always seemed to sound in his ears whenever 
a question of ciioice arose. 

Now, though he heard it, he was too busy to heed it. 

“ Why? ” he echoed. “ I bought them, sir — because 
I — I believed in you . . . there you have it in a nut- 
shell. 

‘ ‘ And why did you believe in me ? ” 

Ted, having recovered his confidence, gave a short 
laugh. “ Upon my soul, I don’t know. I did it — ^that’s 
all.’’ 

Then you had no private intimation — ^you had not 
overheard anything — ^you — it was unvertraute gut — no 
more? ” 

“You gave me a lead over yourself, you know,” re- 
plied Ted argumentatively. “You said Jenkin must 
have time — and the rest followed — I couldn’t help know- 
ing the cipher, could I? ” 

A faint chuckle came from the gloom by the door. 
“ Soh! you have prains I Mr. Cruttenden, I ought to be 
angry, I ought to tell you many things, but I have 
searched long for one to believe in me. I need him. Let 
this be — ^you have won three hundred pounds. I give 
you this per year as my clerk. You accept? 


94 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


It was all over in a moment. The blackbird ceased his 
song, and as Ted Cruttenden hurriedly dressed for din- 
ner his head was in a whirl. This was a chance indeed. 
By Christmas he might stand on more equal ground. 
And after Christmas? His fancy ran riot in pink satin 
and diamonds. 

But, when he left with Mr. Hirsch next morning, the 
latter was in a towering bad temper. Lord Blackborough 
was a fool. He had refused to listen to reason, and Mrs. 
Tressilian was no better. They had both of them de- 
clined to be mixed up any further with the hotel, and 
would not even let him buy them out. The insurance had 
no doubt been made in accordance with business prin- 
ciples, but 

“ He will divest himself of every farthing in two 
years if he goes on being so verdammlich gerecht. Yes ! 
I give him two years to be a pauper,’^ said poor Mr. 
Hirsch, and then his eyes positively filled with tears as 
he considered how all his efforts to secure a competency 
for Helen had failed. 


CHAPTER VIII 


It was early autumn, and Aura was standing in the 
garden, looking more like a Botticelli angel than ever, 
for her face was mutinous, the very curls about her 
temples and ears all crisped and gold-edged as she defied 
even the sunlight. 

She was engaged in an argument with Martha, who, 
in Mr. Sylvanus Smith’s brief yearly absences on the 
work of the Socialistic Congress, still attempted an au- 
thority which she had once held undisputed. 

“ Well, I wouldn’t, not if it was ever so,” asserted the 
worthy woman, her face afiame with righteous indigna- 
tion. “ Mr. Meredith, the rector, he know his part, an’ 
being unbaptized there won ’t be no funeral, so what ’s the 
use of flowers? ” 

Aura’s eyebrows almost met in a sudden frown. ‘‘You 
don’t mean that they will refuse ” 

“ I don’t know nothin’. Miss H’Aura,” interrupted 
Martha ; ‘ ‘ only what I hear tell. I don ’t ’old with bap- 
tism, nor yet with burials, specially the penny things 
they has hereabout. I don’t want no halfpence to help 
bury me. I ain ’t like the folk nowadays, as is that rest- 
less they don’t know where they’ll lie, much less where 
they’ll go to when they’re dead. But I do hear it said 
that there’ll be a fuss, becos the Calvinists wouldn’t bap- 
tize the babby, hoping to get hold o’ the name o’ the 
father, for it was a sin and a shame, her not bein’, as 
it were, all there, an’ now the rector’ll object to a unbap- 
tized, except in the odd corner where they puts the ‘ fel- 
low deceased. ’ No, it ain ’t the sort of thing for you to 
be mixing yourself up with. Miss H’Aura. Them lovely 

95 


96 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


lilies ’d be ashamed o’ your taking them to that gurl 
Gwen. ’ ’ 

Aura bent her head caressingly to the great bunch of 
gold-rayed Japanese lilies she held. 

‘ ‘ I am taking them to a dead baby, ’ ’ she said quietly, 
“ the lilies won’t be ashamed of it.” 

And with that she turned on her heel superbly, leav- 
ing Martha speechless, to watch the blue linen smock 
cross the lawn and disappear behind the rhododendrons. 
A glimmer of it showed like a bit of heaven among the 
birchwood beyond the bridge ere the older woman found 
her tongue, and going over to where Adam was weeding 
beetroot confided in him. 

“ You mark my word, Adam Bate,” she said solemnly, 
“ Miss H’Aura ” (the h was always added on such oc- 
casions as a point of ceremony) “ ’ll marry the wrong 
man, sure as eggs is eggs. ’ ’ 

Adam looked up aghast. “ The wrong ’un? Why, 
sakes me, she ain ’t got never one at all ; and sorry be, for 
’twud be a right sight to see ’un billin’ and cooin’ 
’mongst the yapple trees, as true lovers shud.” 

Martha’s repressed indignation found instant outlet. 
“ Adam Bate,” she remarked severely, “ you ’em’s got 
a low depraved mind, that ’s what ’s the matter with you. 
Miss H’Aura ain’t o’ the cuddlin’ sort, no, nor me 
neither, as you know to your cost, or shud do by this time. 
No ! Miss H ’Aura, bless her dear heart, has such a out- 
look as no man can ever reach to it truly ; an ’ when one 
is a-lookin’ down from a ’eight, it’s hard to tell on what 
rung o’ the ladder a feller’s standing. There’s always 
somethin’ in the way o’ right seein’, either ’is body or 
’is head, specially if it has good looks. ’ ’ 

“ Not if ’e be low ’nuif, Martha, woman,” replied 
Adam, stooping closer to his beetroot, some of which 
seemed to get into his sunburnt ears. “ When she be so 
high as a star, and he be a creepin’ wum in the yerth, an’ 
there never cud be no count of bein’ ekal ” 

“ Then ’e’d better leave coortin’ alone,” interrupted 
Martha uncompromisingly, seein’ ’e cud never clasp 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


97 


her, try ’e ever so hard. But head or heart, you mark 
my word, when Miss H ’Aura’s time comes, him as cares 
least, an’ lays least finger to her, is the one for that prize. 
An’ there won’t be no billin’ and cooin’ among your 
yapple trees, Mr. Bate — ^so there ! ’ ’ 

Adam stood looking after her admiringly. ‘ ‘ ’Twarn ’t 
so bad if it hadn’t bin for that trick o’ blushin’; but 
there, beet is beet, and what’s in the hands comes out in 
the face. I ’ll tell her so when I gives it in fur bilin ’. ’ ’ 

With which remark he chuckled, and settled down to 
his weeding once more. For fifteen years he had made 
ineffectual attempts to court Martha, and nothing now 
would have surprised or taken him aback more than the 
faintest success. 

On her side, Martha kept up the conflict with external 
spirit, but with a certain sneaking admiration also for 
his pertinacity. As she went back to her kitchen she 
also chuckled. ‘ ‘ Blushed like a babby, ’ ’ she murmured, 
“an’ he wrinkled like a bad batch o’ bread. I’ll tell 
him that there beetroot’s bled when he brings it in.” 

Aura by this time was out of the woods and cresting 
the bracken-patched hillside, the silly Welsh sheep, 
alarmed even at her gracious presence, fleeing from the 
tussocks and rocks far ahead of her with grunts and 
whistles such as no other sheep in the world can make. 

The lilies on her arm brought a passing sweetness into 
the fresh morning air, and as she carried them her 
thoughts were busy with what Martha had said to her. 
What did it all mean? Her arms, which in all their 
young and vigorous life had never held a child, closed 
tenderly round the flowers as if they had been the body 
of the dead baby. Poor little babe! to come into this 
world unsought, to leave it to be quarrelled over. The 
motherhood which was hers by right of her sex wakened 
in her strongly ; she laid her soft cheek caressingly once 
more on a white petal, then, in sudden impulse, she 
kissed it softly. Poor little childie ! But Gwen had loved 
it, and it had not minded being unbaptized. It had not 
even minded its fatherlessness. Neither had Gwen ; but 


98 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


then she, poor soul, was what people called wanting. 
Wanting in what? Not in motherhood, certainly. 

Aura had often seen the two playing together on the 
sunny banks about the shepherd’s cottage; the toddling 
baby with its fists full of its mother’s curly hair, both 
faces aglow with laughter and with love. 

And now the child was dead. Poor Gwen ! 

Aura, accustomed to look at Nature with clear eyes, 
and utterly untouched by conventional conclusions, felt 
a wellspring of sympathy rise up in her heart. Such a 
pretty baby, too, as it had been! More than once she 
had paused in passing to watch it and wish that she too 
had so delightful a plaything, thinking that with so abid- 
ing an interest in them, the hills and woods, the streams 
and fiowers of her secluded valley would suffice for her 
life. 

And now it was dead I 

Her eyes, blurred with tears, made a misty halo round 
the cottage, tucked out of man’s way in a little hollow 
among the hills. A desolate-looking little cottage, gar- 
denless, fenceless, a mere human habitation set down be- 
side a spouting spring, which day and night, night and 
day, splashed on in high-pitched, feeble, querulous 
iteration. 

As she came up to it a black shadow showed on the 
doorstep, and, through the mist of her unshed tears, she 
recognised it as the figure of a man. It was, indeed, the 
Reverend Morris Pugh coming away from consolation. 
He paused at the sight of her, as any man well might, 
and over his keen Celtic face swept a wave of enthusi- 
astic approval. His hat was off, his smile shone out 
brilliantly. 

Excuse me,” he said, “ I am the minister, and this 
is kind indeed; those beautiful lilies, they will surely 
comfort the poor mother, and teach her to trust in the 
mercy of Him who considers the flowers of the fields — it 
— it is a Christian act.” There were almost tears in his 
voice. 

Aura looked at him and smiled. 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 99 

“ But I am not a Christian. I brought them for the 
baby/’ she said simply. 

Morris Pugh’s eyes narrowed. ‘'lam sorry ; and they 
can do no good to the child. God has taken him. Ven- 
geance is mine, saith the Lord, I will repay. Gwen has 
to learn her lesson, poor child.” 

“You mean,” — Aura’s face had grown a little pale, — 
“ that the child’s death is — is a punishment? ” 

“ It is done in love — the Lord loveth whom He chas- 
teneth,” he replied gently. 

‘ ‘ And you have told her so ? ” 

Something in the girl’s tone made him reply on the 
instant: “ She did not need the telling; she knew it al- 
ready. ’ ’ 

“ She knew it already! ” 

Aura passed him like a flame of Are, and entered the 
cottage eager with her purely human consolation ; but the 
note of preparation within struck a chill to her very soul. 

Old Mrs. Evans, Gwen’s mother, sat in a black dress 
with her Bible before her at the receipt of custom. The 
door between the living-room and the bedroom was half 
open, and through it, lying on a table covered with a 
white sheet, was a tiny, still, uncovered form in a white 
gown. Aura could see the little dimpled hands folded so 
sedately on the little breast ; it sent a great pang through 
her to think of them so quiet. 

And Gwen? What of her? 

“ I have brought these lilies,” she said almost apolo- 
getically to stout Mrs. Evans; “ I should like to give 
them to Gwen, if I may.” 

Mrs. Evans’s English being of the smallest, she sighed, 
rose, and saying “ Pliss you, come this way,” ushered 
Aura with her armful of lilies into the bedroom. In the 
further corner of it, her apron over her face, sat Gwen 
rocking herself to and fro, and muttering under her 
breath. She drew down the apron at her mother’s touch 
and quick sentence in Welsh, and so sat staring across the 
body of the dead baby at Aura. Her face was more 
vacant than distraught, its pink and white prettiness 


100 


A SOVBFEIGN REMEDY 


seeming to hide the tragedy of grief which must surely 
lie beneath it. 

‘ ‘ I have brought these, ’ ’ said Aura, laying one of the 
lilies beside the dead child. 

With a cry, fierce as a wild animal, Gwen sprang to 
her feet, snatched at the fiower, tore it shred from shred, 
and fiung them to the corners of the room. 

“ Stand back, Englishwoman! ’’ she cried in Welsh, 
her eyes blazing with sudden, wild, distracted passion. 
“ Leave us alone! We are accursed! accursed! we want 
no flowers here.” Then she clung to her mother and 
wailed, “ Oh ! mother, take it away — ^take the child away 
— I do not want it ; it is accursed. God has taken it away, 
and it must go. Let her take it if she wants it ; take it 
away and bury it out of sight. I must forget my sin — 
my sin — my sin! Beth n^ai! Beth n^ai! Gwae fi! 
heth n^ai! ” 

The mingled sobbing of the two women, roused in an 
instant to the very highest pitch of unrestrained emotion, 
smote on Aura ’s ears turning her to veritable stone. She 
understood enough to grasp the drift of what she heard, 
and with a quick pulse of pity for the quiet rest thus 
rudely disturbed, she bent and kissed the clay-cold child, 
then turned without a word and left the room. Not 
to be long alone, however. 

The elder woman, recovering her self-control as quickly 
as she had lost it, followed her into the sunshine beyond 
the low door, and arrested her with mingled tears and 
apologies. Gwen, she said in quaintest English and 
Welsh, was a mad iolin — just a silly nonsense — though it 
was just true the child wass better to die. It was not as 
the ’nother one — here she looked sorrowfully at a five- 
year-old who was busy making mud pies by the water- 
spout, and shook her head — that one wass two shillin ’ and 
sixpence a week. Yess, indeed! because her daughter 
wass for ever in the good shentleman placiss ; but Gwen — 
silly nonsense, Gwen — she could pay nothing. She was 
not all wise 

Aura, staring out into the sunshine which happed the 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


101 


whole beautiful world-expanse of hill and wood in its 
magic mantle, looked in the woman ’s really grief -stricken 
face, in slow, almost incredulous wonder. 

“You mean that — that — ” she hesitated, pointing to 
the child — “ that your other daughter in service pays 
you half a crown ? ’ ’ 

Something in her voice made Mrs. Evans mop her eyes 
with her apron still more strenuously. “ It is the price, ’ ^ 
she protested ; ‘ ‘ there is many askiss three shillin Mrs. 
Jhones and she have two, an’ Mrs. Daviss, an’ ” 

‘ ‘ And Gwen gave nothing ! ’ ’ 

The words seemed to Aura to burden the sunshine; 
she turned swiftly to go, feeling the need of escape. 

“ But the ladiess, ” sobbed Mrs. Evans, “ would be 
given a shillings or so when they be comning. Yess, in- 
deed ! a shillings or so. ’ ’ 

Aura wheeled, the lilies still in her arms. ‘ ^ I have no 
money,” she cried, her voice ringing with passionate 
scorn, “ I never have any money, thank God! ” 

So with quick, springing step, her whole young soul 
aflame with indignation, she was off breasting the hill, 
leaving the hollows behind her, wishing with all her 
heart that she could have carried the dead baby with her. 
To call it accursed ! To count it unbaptized ! The dar- 
ling lying there so peaceful, so still, so waxen, so like 
the lilies. Ah! if she could only take it away from all 
the sordid thoughts, what burial would not her Angers 
compass there on the bosom of the kindly earth ! For it 
and for the lilies. How soft it should lie, how flower- 
decked! Yes, the great white petals should shield the 
little white face from the touch of the close, damp earth, 
and it should sleep — sleep — sleep ! 

The tears ran down her cheeks silently as, almost at 
the limit of her young and vigorous pace, she passed on, 
passed upwards, pursued by the one overmastering im- 
pulse to get away, to And some safe resting-place for 
what she would fain have carried. 

But, by degrees, her thoughts became calmer ; she be- 
gan to see the whole pitiful story and put her finger in- 


102 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


tuitively on the points of offence ; for she had seen little 
of the world, and knew still less of its ways. She thought 
of the lowing heifer and its bull-calf, of the second brood 
of young blackbirds over whose first flight she had but 
that morning seen the parents so excited, and then she 
thought of the fatherless unsought child whose only 
worth was the bringing of two-and-sixpence a week to its 
grandmother ! 

Truly her grandfather was right. Money was a curse. 

But so were other things. The religion, for instance, 
which told poor Gwen that her child was accursed, that 
its death was a punishment. Poor Gwen seated in her 
threadbare black, with her apron over her head, so unlike 
the girl in a blue cotton dress who used to tumble about 
on the thyme banks with her boisterous, rosy-cheeked 
baby. 

It was pitiful. That cry Beth n^ai! Bethn^ai! Gwae 
fi! heth n’ai! rang in Aura’s ears as she sat down at last 
among the rocks of a sheep-shelter on the crest of a hill. 
Here in winter the south-west winds howled and swept 
the bare braes, wasting their force against the lichen-set 
boulders behind which even the shearling lambs could lie 
snugly, but in this early autumn the sun baked into the 
close-cropped turf, and mushrooms grew in clusters where 
the lambs had lain. 

It was a favourite outlook of Aura’s, for it gave over 
the widening estuary and the sea beyond. Beyond that 
again the setting sun; for it was growing late, and the 
autumn days began to close in. 

She sat there on the wild thyme thinking, making up — 
as the young do almost unconsciously — ^her mind about 
many things, reaching forward to the future vaguely 
with certain new thoughts regarding it in her mind, and 
all the while watching the great pageant of the Death of 
Day enact itself out in the West. 

It was a lurid sunset ; full of flames, of deep, purple- 
stained clouds. It was a pageant of passion, self-existent, 
self-destroying. 

Yet it was beautiful ! She would sit and watch it to 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


103 


the end, she would see the anger and the threat of it pass 
into grey calm when the sun had gone. 

So she sat on, the lilies still in her lap, until she was 
roused by a step, by one word — 

Gwen! ” 

She turned startled, to see the startled face of a young 
man behind her. It was a beautiful face, the sort of a 
face which women love, and in its quick amaze there was 
almost a hint of appeal, of hope for fair hearing. 

The girl grasped the situation in a moment. He had 
been misled by her blue dress. He had thought she was 
Gwen ; poor frail Gwen who was not all wise,’’ yet still 
had been wise enough to keep this secret of hers. 

He turned with a half -muttered apology, in another in- 
stant he would have been gone, but Aura’s strong, firm 
fingers were on his wrist ; she looked at him from head to 
foot, judging him. 

Then with one swift sweep of her other hand she struck 
his handsome face full with the fading lilies she still held. 

“ Coward! ” she said. ‘‘Go! your task is done! ” 

The fiowers broke softly on his warm fiesh and blood, 
leaving no mark, but her words seemed to shrivel him; 
he slunk away. 

She watched him disappear down the hillside, then 
with a sob she fiung herself face down on the short turf, 
crushing the lilies to their death, and cried as though her 
heart would break. 


CHAPTER IX 


The little village of Dinas was in a turmoil. Consider- 
ing its small size, and the extreme peace of its situation 
happed round by everlasting hills, and so cuddled close 
to the very heart of calm creation, it held an extraordi- 
nary capability for fuss. The hot Celtic blood would get 
into the hot Celtic brain at the slightest provocation, and 
it had risen from the sub-normal of rural life to the 
fever-heat of a revolution over a baby whom some one 
had refused to baptize, and some one else had declined to 
bury. 

The rector, relying on the Middle Ages, had pointed to 
the nettle-grown corner reserved for those whose salva- 
tion was doubtful. The whole Calvinistic body, forgetful 
of election and predestination, had fled as one man from 
the authority of the Bible to that of the Burials Act. 

Radical religion and religious radicalism had once 
more met in grips, and the guarantors of the little tele- 
graph station in the village breathed freely by reason of 
the wires that were sent, and that came from the princes 
and powers of darkness and light all over the country. 

The result was, of course, that foregone conclusion of 
these later days — a compromise. The churchyard be- 
longed to the parish, the burial service to the Church. 
And so, with a curious falter at its innermost heart be- 
cause of the absence of the rector’s familiar surplice and 
biretta, the village had signalised its victory by a tri- 
umphal following of Gwen ’s baby to the grave, not of its 
fathers, but its mothers. 

As they gathered round the coffin which looked so tiny 
far away down in the greasy, black earth, the sound of 
‘ ‘ Day of wrath, that dreadful day, ’ ’ sung by the rector 
at his usual evening service, floated out from the church 

104 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


105 


to join Morris Pugh’s indignant militant prayer to the 
Almighty; but the peaceful little dead child slept un- 
disturbed by either. 

Yet the rector, honest man, had no ill-feeling at all, 
but rather a profound pity for the lamb of his flock who 
had been lost through ignorance on his part, for had he 
known of its illness nothing would have prevented him 
from storming the shepherd ’s hut and claiming his right 
as rector. Indeed, but for the necessity for reprobating 
the scandalous withholding of one of the Church’s sacra- 
ments from an innocent soul because its parents were 
blameworthy, there is small doubt that he would have 
asked no questions, and buried the small dead body de- 
cently and in order. As it was he came, after service was 
over, tall and cassock-garbed, to stand beside the tiny 
mound of new-turned soil which broke the lush green of 
the churchyard, make the sign of the cross over it, and 
pray a little prayer for mercy. 

Nevertheless, he went back to his study and his eccle- 
siastical histories a harder man for the incident. His 
bishop had not upheld the authority of the Church; he 
had — in all reverence be it spoken — hedged, and the Rev. 
Gawain Meredith was too priestly, soul and body, for 
hedging with heretics. 

For there was no mincing of words about him. The 
Wesley ans were possibly schismatics; all other dissenters 
were heretics, and the Calvinistic Methodists the most 
distinctly dangerous heretics with whom he had to deal. 
They reminded him in their social, religious, and politi- 
cal organisation of the Jesuits whose history he was 
studying. He had a reluctant admiration for their deter- 
mination to force means to an end, and he saw plainly 
how much capital they would make out of his refusal to 
bury the body. Elections to the parish council were com- 
ing on, and he had already made himself unpopular by 
questioning the expenditure. So he read the paragraphs 
concerning the baby’s burial which he found waiting for 
him on his study table in the weekly local, with a set- 
ting of his thin lips. They might turn him out of the 


106 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


council if they choose, but while he was in it, he would do 
his duty by the ratepayers. 

Morris Pugh had read these same paragraphs in manu- 
script ; they had been sent to him for revision, and he had 
returned them without a word of comment; yet he had 
felt a vague regret pluck at his heart. 

He was an enthusiast, pure and simple. Those chiefs 
of his party, who seized so quickly on every point of van- 
tage, were enthusiasts and something more. 

He felt ill at ease ; though, in attempting to get at the 
truth concerning Gwen’s fault he had acted almost at 
the instigation of his elders. Isaac Edwards and Richard 
Jones, stern fathers of the village, had been inexorable, 
and so Gwen, once the pride of the choir, despite her be- 
ing “ light in the weighing,” had been practically ex- 
communicated. Not that there had ever been any inten- 
tion of such excommunication being permanent, or of its 
injuring the child; but spasmodic croup waits for noth- 
ing, and so — ^so the Middle Ages and the Burials Act had 
come into conflict. 

This, however, was not the only cause for Morris 
Pugh ’s uneasiness. 

Oddly enough, the disturbing element was the hundred 
pounds which Ned Blackborough had hidden in the cleft 
of the rocks. The last two months had been one long 
temptation to go and take it at all costs — take it and say 
nothing. And yet his soul revolted from the very idea. 
The constant conflict, however, had forced him into 
clearer thought, and he had shrunk back in horror from 
much that he saw in himself and others. The greed of 
gold! How it riddled all human life; it even touched 
the next, for it was the mainspring of religion. Money I 
Money! There was a perpetual call for it. Half the 
spiritual life of his flock was due to the efforts of those 
who had built the chapel and who worked — for God, 
no doubt — ^but also to get flve per cent, interest on their 
mortgages. 

Yes! the souls for whom Christ died were bartering 
them for gold. 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 107 

0 ! for something, some voicing of the Great Spirit, to 
stir them to a nobler commerce ! 

This was his desire, his constant prayer, and he had 
grown haggard and anxious over the stress of both. 

The last two days also had brought a fresh anxiety. 
Mervyn, his brother, had returned from a month’s visit 
to Blackborough, curiously moody, curiously irnlike him- 
self; that is the earnest, clever lad who for years had 
been the pride of the village, the joy of his mother’s and 
of his brother’s heart. No doubt his failure to pass the 
examination had discouraged him ; but was that all ? It 
did not really matter; he was young yet, had another 
chance, and meanwhile could go on as he was, earning 
enough to keep him as clerk to the village councils and 
boards. 

So as Morris Pugh, hollow-eyed, pale, lingered at the 
grave of the little child which he had just committed to 
the dust whence it had come, there was no stability 
in his thoughts. They wandered on dreamily until, sud- 
denly as a flash, came the certainty that one of the 
many mourners, who had but a minute before been 
looking down on the tiny coffin, was father to what 
it held. 

And he had stood there silent, unrepentant ! 

Yes; it must be so, for poor Gwen was no wanderer; 
her own people sufficed for that limited life. 

He covered his face with his hands and turned swiftly, 
almost to stumble over his brother who stood behind him. 
His face was haggard also, and Morris looked at it with 
a quick dread clutching at his heart. 

“ There’s — there’s nothing wrong is there — Merve — ” 
he faltered. 

The lad flushed crimson. Only you’ve trodden on 
my toe ; that’s all, ” he answered, bending low to brush off 
the dust of the grave which his brother’s foot had left 
on his boot. 

“ I beg your pardon,” replied Morris Pugh slowly; 
then the remembrance that he was pastor here as else- 
where made him add, '' I was so overcome by the horrible 


108 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


thought that the father of that poor child must have been 
here — beside us, Merve. ’ ’ 

But the lad’s face was up again ; he looked his brother 
calmly in the face. 

“ I suppose he was; but what is the use of bothering 
about it? The thing’s over — ” He glanced at the grave 
as he spoke, and looked back at his brother almost im- 
patiently. “ Oh! for God’s sake, Morris, let her be — 
I dare say it — it was a sort of mistake — ^he mayn’t have 
meant — but anyhow, the thing’s done with! ” 

‘ ‘ Done ! ’ ’ echoed Morris ; ‘ ‘ how can it be done with- 
out repentance ? ’ ’ 

Mervyn ’s handsome eyes narrowed, his lip set. ‘ ‘ And 
how do you know he doesn’t repent? If the — the baby 
had lived it might have been worth while; but now — ” 
he smiled suddenly. Don’t worry any more about it, 
there’s a good chap. Mother will be waiting tea for us, 
and you have all those envelopes to send round this 
evening. ’ ’ 

Morris Pugh winced under the reminder. Yes! to- 
morrow was Collection Sunday, and each household of 
the faith must be provided with an envelope addressed 
to it in which the offering must be enclosed, thus ena- 
bling those in authority to trace home any inadequate 
donation. 

Oh ! would the time never come to the Church of Christ 
when the Elect would need no such precautions against 
cheating their God ? For that was what it meant. 

His whole soul sickened as he thought of how each 
one of his flock would weigh the balance between this 
world and the next. And yet a good collection was the 
vivifler of spiritual life. Without it, how could extra 
preachers be paid for, and the religio-social work of 
the community be kept up? 

It was late ere all the arrangements for the morrow, 
including a reception and prayer-meeting in honour of 
the Reverend Hwfa Morgan, who was to conduct the 
morning service, were over ; but even then Morris Pugh 
had not finished his work. That was to wrestle through 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 109 

the night in prayer for Divine Guidance, for Divine 
Help. 

And all the while the slow, certain stars wheeled in 
their appointed courses to meet the dawn, the dawn that 
came true to its appointed time. 

There was a stir in the village, of course. To begin 
with, there was the excitement of a new preacher. 
Would he come up to his reputation? And would the 
performance of the village choir be satisfactory? Then, 
as all the outlying members of the congregation came in 
from the distant farms early, there was the additional 
excitement of hearing and giving gossip. As one of the 
yearly functions, too, Collection Sunday was a festival 
for fine clothes. Alicia Edwards wore hers, an entirely 
new get-up which, remembering Myfanwy’s look at 
Mervyn, and having in mind various penny novelettes 
in which jealousy played the principal part, she had or- 
dered from another shop in Blackborough. For she was 
becoming reckless. At heart she was an excellent crea- 
ture, but her education had been against her. She had 
learnt so much that was absolutely unnecessary for what 
she wanted to make out of life. What did it matter to 
her whether she could reel off the names of the claimants 
to the crown of Spain during the War of Succession? 
All she really desired was love; sentimental, not over- 
passionate love. Life without emotion was to her an 
empty life. Other girls, feeling as restless as she did, 
might have defied home authority and followed, say, 
Myfanwy Jones’s lead; but she was too dutiful, and in 
addition she had a reputation to keep up, the repu- 
tation of being the best girl in the village. Her father, 
of whom she was desperately afraid, talked of a Train- 
ing College for Teachers; she held her peace, and lived 
feverishly for the moment. That, at any rate, was pro- 
ductive of emotion ! 

So she put on her finest clothes and went down to 
meet Mervyn at the chapel door, and greet him with a 
sprightly challenge and a little quiver of her lip: Not 
that she was really in love with him. Any other of the 


no 


A SOVEHEIGN REMEDY 


stalwart young men, who cultivated the same forehead 
curl, would have done as well, if he had been attracted 
by her and called her his darling, and asked her to be 
his wife; for all her education had left her woman — 
woman pure and simple. 

There was quite a crowd at the chapel door, a gen- 
eral excitement over the thought of the new preacher, 
though to many a bent old man and worn old woman 
the great event of the day was in the envelope, safely 
tucked away in the Bibles they clutched so confidently. 
For, realising that this might be their last donation, they 
had given their ransom for the skies. Isaac Edwards 
fussed round, keeping a watchful eye for the doubtful 
members of the flock; and the Reverend Hwfa Morgan, 
a tall young man who might have looked sensual but for 
his exceeding pallor, spoke to the favoured few, giving 
them a taste of his fluency. 

He was extraordinarily fluent. His periods swept 
along soundfully and brought forth many encomiums 
in the brief period between the services, for the evening 
hour had been put forward to the afternoon in order to 
allow the outermost outsiders to get home ere dark, and 
thus have no excuse for absence. 

So the westering sun shone full into the bare, white- 
washed chapel when Morris Pugh, as a preliminary to 
his final appeal, stepped forward, and the Reverend 
Hwfa Morgan stepped back for the moment. 

There was the difference of two worlds between their 
faces. As Morris gave out a well-known Welsh hymn, 
a little sudden thrill seemed to vibrate in the humanity- 
burdened air of the packed chapel. 

What was it? 

The quaint modulations rose and fell in wide compass, 
now high, now low. Would the Spirit of the Lord speak 
in a singing voice? 

The thought was no new one; it had been in Morris 
Pugh’s mind as he had listened of late to the oft- told 
tale — which grew in the telling — of the mysterious 
music in the church on Trinity Sunday. 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


111 


But no ! The hymn died away to its Amen, and there 
was no sign. 

So he began his address. 

And then suddenly his eye caught a figure by the door, 
a figure in black, close veiled. Surely it was Gwen — 
Gwen the sinner? 

And then he spoke again. He had passed the night in 
prayer; he had eaten nothing; the whole body and soul 
of him was in deadly earnest. 

Whether there was something more than this or not, 
that in itself has to be reckoned with, especially with an 
emotional audience. 

So, as he spoke of the dead child, an old woman, her 
face seamed with wrinkles, seemed to feel a half -forgot- 
ten tug at her breast and began to weep; an old man, 
straining with almost sightless eyes for some glimpse 
which might make the young, fiexible, lamenting voice 
more earthly, less heavenly, followed suit. Then the 
golden haze which filled the chapel seemed to hold a radi- 
ance, and close to the speaker, Alicia Edwards gave a 
little half -suffocated cry and tore, as if for breath, at the 
laces round her throat. 

And still the insistent, strenuous voice held to its high 
protesting pitch of passionate reproof. Its cadence was 
the only sound 

No! What was that? 

Prom the figure by the door a sound — the merest 
shadow of a sound ! 

‘ Just as I am without one plea.^ 


The Welsh translation of a sinner’s joy was familiar, 
and a thrill, individual yet collective, ran through the 
chapel as, turning, every one in it saw Gwen, her whole 
face, sodden with tears, transfigured into angelic light 
and peace and joy as she sang — 


* Save that Thy Blood was shed for me.’ 


112 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


The strenuous man’s voice failed suddenly before the 
exquisite sweetness of the woman’s, but only for a mo- 
ment. A voice less strenuous, yet still a man’s, joined in 
the singing, then another woman ’s. 

So, by ones and twos and threes, the message of cer- 
tain salvation grew from a whisper to a storm of sound. 

‘ 0 Lamb of God, I come! ’ 


And then ? 

Then, while Morris Pugh stood white, trembling, al- 
most appalled, the Reverend Hwfa Morgan sprang for- 
ward with a shout of “ Hallelujah 1 ” 

It swept away the last barrier of reserve. With cries 
and groans the congregation leapt to its feet or grovelled 
in the dust. 

Speak to them, man, speak to them, the Spirit is 
upon you, ’ ’ urged the Reverend Hwfa Morgan, as Mor- 
ris Pugh still stood, paralysed by the realisation of his 
prayer. 

So he essayed to speak, but the power did not lie with 
him. It lay in the soft, almost unearthly, harmonies of 
Gwen’s voice, and Mervyn’s, and Alicia Edwards, fol- 
lowed by those of many a young man and maiden. Over 
and over again some wild Welsh chant pitted itself 
against prayer or preaching, or even the earnest confes- 
sion of sin from some sinner, and always with the same 
result, a victory for the service of song. Against that 
soothing background even Time itself seemed lost. The 
evening drew in wet and stormy. The necessity for 
closing the chapel doors burdened the pent air still more 
with man’s great need of forgiveness. The miserable 
ventilation, which sanitation allows to churches and for- 
bids to theatres, made women faint and strong men turn 
sick, while every now and again a burst of unrestrained 
laughter or sobbing told of nerves strained to the break- 
ing point. 

It was nigh dawn when, by the light of a pale moon 
obscured by drifting storm-clouds, Morris Pugh turned 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


113 


the key in the chapel door with a trembling hand. The 
Reverend Hwfa Morgan and Isaac Edwards were wait- 
ing for him on the wet, glittering steps. 

“ That is over,’’ he muttered slowly in Welsh. 

“ Over! ” echoed his brother cleric. “ If the Lord 
will, it has just begun : from it will spread a wave of re- 
vival. You and those sweet singers — ! ” His excitement 
was too much for him, he reverted to English, Yes, 

indeed ! We will have a collection ” 

Isaac Edwards slapped his thigh with an inarticulate 
ejaculation. 

Morris Pugh,” he said, his voice quivering with re- 
gret, we have forgotten it. God forgive us, we have 
forgotten the money ! ’ ’ 


CHAPTER X 


“You might have known, if you hadnT been in a 
dream,” muttered Mervyn Pugh as he sat, his face hid- 
den in his hands. ‘ ‘ Nothing can be done without money, 
nothing, and it wouldn’t have mattered if it had not 
been for this cursed meeting — and — and the rector ” 

“ Don’t curse him, Merve,” broke in Morris Pugh, 
who stood, with the look of one newly awakened, near 
the window, gazing out vaguely at a rising star, which 
lay on the distant hilltop like a visitant from heaven. 
Even as he looked, his mind all confused and blurred, the 
novel thought came to him that with such high and holy 
messengers at His command, the Creator need not have 
condescended to send such farthing dips of wandering 
lights to mark His elect, as some which had been mani- 
fested during the revival. 

For a month had passed since Gwen’s singing of the 
hymn had electrified the little congregation at Dinas, a 
month during which 

What had happened ? 

Morris Pugh, looking at his brother, saw that past 
month as in a dream, indeed. He, as the preacher, for- 
getful of everything save his mission, and those four 
voices, Gwen’s soprano, Alicia Edwards’s contralto, 
Mervyn ’s tenor, and Hwfa Morgan’s bass, blending into 
every message of penitence or peace which emotion 
could desire. So they had gone preaching and singing, 
rousing an almost frenzied response wherever they went. 
And all the while 

‘ ‘ I don ’t understand yet, ’ ’ he said slowly. ‘ ‘ Why was 
all this money required? ” 

Mervyn echoed the “ all ” with half-pathetic scorn. 

114 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


115 


‘ ‘ A hundred pounds doesn ’t go far in running a re- 
vival,” he said savagely. “ One must start the thing. 
Why, even before we left Dinas, Gwen and Alicia had to 
get their clothes, they couldn't go in what they had got, 
and there was music wanted. One had to get a chorus, 
and the men couldn’t sit up all night and work all day. 
Morgan and I talked it all over, for some one must look 
after practical things, you know, and I said I would 
finance it till the subscriptions came in. It’s no use your 
looking like that, Morris. Any fool would tell you money 
had to be got somehow for the time, and it would have 
been all right but for this row with the rector. That 
isn ’t my fault. ’ ’ 

Morris Pugh started as if he had been stung. “ No ! 
it was mine,” he said. “ I am the elder. I ought to 
have considered. ’ ’ 

Mervyn rose quickly, and, going over to his brother, 
laid a caressing hand on his shoulder. 

“ Now don’t, Morris,” he said, using a common Welsh 
endearment, ‘ ‘ let us forget ourselves for a while. I sup- 
pose it was wrong, but — ” here his lip quivered, “ it 
musn ’t injure the work. My God ! how awful that would 
be.” He flung himself on the chair again and, stretch- 
ing his arms out over the table, 'positively sobbed. He 
was a prey to every emotion, every feeling that in this 
moment of anxiety and bewilderment swept over him, 
for he and his brother had come home but half an hour 
ago full of elation from a successful meeting at the other 
end of the county, to find that the rector, ousted member 
of village boards and councils, had insisted on a scrutiny 
of the accounts ere making over office next day. 

And Mervyn knew that the balance would be a hun- 
dred pounds short ; the hundred pounds which had been 
paid over by the central fund for educational purposes, 
and which should have been deposited in the Post Office 
Bank when it had come in a month ago. He had not 
done so, however, because, on emergency, he had bor- 
rowed the loan of the use of it for something else. 

To do him justice that was all he had meant. Once 


116 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


the revival was fairly started the monetary question 
could be allowed to crop up, but without money in the 
background to make it possible to pose as having no re- 
gard to money, how could the very committees which 
would work the business properly be called into exist- 
ence? At the time he had thought of nothing but God's 
service, and even now he felt little remorse. His sense 
of conversion was too strong, and the whole month of 
incessant irritation of every possible religious emotion 
had left him a pulp so far as actual facts were con- 
cerned . . . and as a rule the village accounts went on 
and on endlessly . . . 

He lifted up his hand and smote the table impotently. 
Great heavens ! what was to be done ? That hundred 
pounds must be replaced somehow. 

As he thought of how it had been spent, he felt vaguely 
uncomfortable over an item which had gone to pay a 
small bill of his own, contracted in amusing Myfanwy 
Jones at Blackborough. He felt ashamed of that, but he 
had no shame for other things in the further past. A 
curious fanatical exultation filled him as he thought how 
marvellous were God's ways, and how men and women, 
sinners utterly, might stand in all innocence together 
and proclaim infinite mercy. Inscrutable mystery ! Al- 
most incredible secret tie of forgiven sin, which made the 
voices thrill and blend. 

And this must end unless there was money. They had 
but a few hours, and even Hwfa Morgan was not there 
to help with advice. He would not return till morning, 
so there was only poor, dreamy Morris, absorbed in the 
personal issues. 

There was but one issue! That there should be no 
setback to the overwhelming success of the revival. 

For it had been successful beyond measure, in works 
as well as words. 

In Dinas itself, the cotoneaster-covered inn might have 
put up its shutters for all the liquor sold at the once- 
frequented bar. There was no swearing or quarrelling 
from one end of the parish to the other. Even the 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


117 


snaring of their neighbours’ rabbits for Sunday dinner, 
ultimate crime of a Welsh quarryman, had ceased. And 
these were but the outward and visible signs of a great 
inward and spiritual grace. A sense of perfect personal 
peace had fallen upon the mass of men. 

There were no more anxieties, no more fears. Heaven 
and its golden harps were within the reach of all, and, 
looking forward, each personality could see itself sur- 
viving death and going on unchanged for ever and ever 
and aye. So the Grave had lost its Victory. Each 
trivial soul was safe. 

The result in pure morality, not only in Dinas but 
throughout the whole countryside, was unquestionable. 
Even those who disapproved of such emotional excite- 
ment, or who, like the rector, viewed with disfavour all 
outpourings of grace except through the appointed chan- 
nels, could not deny this, and were driven to darkling 
hints as to the staying power of such religious feeling. 

Only Martha, going down in state to order the usual 
gross of matches at the village shop — the carriage ar- 
rangements precluded their purchase with all other 
things at the Stores — fell foul of the whole business, 
lock and stock and barrel, to Isaac Edwards, whom she 
found singing hymns while he did up the pound package 
of sugar, in which the paper, heavy blue, was included 
in the weight. Not that it was his fault that this was 
so. It was only one of the usual tricks of a trade which 
on a small scale cannot possibly be run straight. 

“ You’ll excuse me,” she said with a sniff, but it 
strikes me as you’re all a deal too free with the Almighty. 
But there, once folk stops making their reverences to the 
gentry, ’tain’t long ere they get to noddin’ at their Crea- 
tor. An’ you don’t go to the Bible for your crowded- 
up night-watches, Mr. Edwards. King David, an’ he 
oughter know, says mornin’, evenin’, an’ noon. At night 
’e watered ’is bed with ’is tears an’ was still, like a 
decent gentleman. There wasn’t none of this not-comin’- 
home-till-mornin’ business, and how folks as ’as to work 
hard for their livin’ does it, beats me. I’ll set up agin 


118 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


most, but I’m a pore piece next day, an’ wouldn’t ask a 
full wage of anybody, not I ! And as for the young folk ; 
you mark my words, Mr. Edwards! Gels is gels, an’ 
boys is boys, whether they stands in a kirk or a mill, as 
the sayin’ is. An’ they’ll find it out for theirselves, 
poor sillies, by an’ by, if them as is past ‘ youth’s hay- 
day ’ don’t harvest-home ’em before lights out. So 
there ! An ’ you can send up a gross an ’ a half o ’ matches 
if you think that not bein’ o’ your way o’ believin’ I 
shall ’ave to ’arden myself to brimstone. ’ ’ 

So she had departed; but her warnings had been as 
chaff before the wind while the harvest was being gath- 
ered in. 

The fiood-tide of popular opinion lifted even the 
wildest extravagances as well as the most sober actuality 
and carried them with it. Whither remained to be seen. 

And now? 

Morris Pugh, standing at the window looking in dull 
amaze at the star which had by this time dissociated itself 
entirely from earth, could not think what would happen 
now. 

Everything on which he had any grip seemed to have 
gone. Since that day, a long month ago, when his voice 
had failed before Gwen ’s voice, he had, like the star, dis- 
sociated himself from the material world altogether. He 
had given the rein to his emotions, he had lived in the 
clouds, never asking or thinking how Alicia and Gwen 
came to be dressed so becomingly, never inquiring how 
the expenses of railway tickets, hiring, placarding, ad- 
vertisements, notices in the papers, all the thousand and 
one absolute necessities for a successful meeting, were 
defrayed. So the truth came upon him with deadly 
force. Morally a far stronger man than his brother, 
he could not for the moment get beyond the actual fact 
of fraud. 

How could Mervyn have taken the money? How 
could he ? 

“ Well ! ’’said the latter at last, rising to pace the room 
impatiently, nervously. “ Can’t you suggest something? 


A SOTEBEIGN BEMEDT 


119 


The money must be replaced somehow. We daren’t risk 
anything. What can be done ? and in the next few hours. 
—Oh ! it is maddening to think how many would be will- 
ing to lend it if we had only time ! To think even of 
the thousands who have hundreds and hundreds of 

pounds to fling away on a fancy, and this ” he 

paused, arrested by his brother’s face. “ What is it, 
Morris? what — what makes you look like that? ” 

For answer Morris sank to his knees and covered his 
face as if in prayer. “ I thank Thee, 0 my God! ” he 
murmured, “ this hast Thou prepared aforetime. 0 ye 
of little faith — of little faith 1 ’ ’ 

What is it, Morris? ” repeated Mervyn curiously. 
The last month had done its work on him also. He was 
prepared for all things, all signs, and wonders. “ You 
might tell me, ’ ’ he added, after a pause. 

‘‘ No! ” 

Morris’s face came up from his hands full of tri- 
umphant, transcendental exultation. “ No ! That is a 
secret between me and my God. But the hundred pounds 
is found ! It is found, I tell you ! Oh ! marvellous, most 
marvellous! Truly He moves in a mysterious way His 
wonders to perform ! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!” 

For Mervyn ’s words had recalled to him in a flash the 
half-forgotten memory of Ned Blackborough ’s hidden 
money, and his mind attuned to miracles, super-sensitised 
to the direct dealings of Providence with man, leapt to 
the conclusion that the hundred pounds, so idly, so care- 
lessly flung away on what appeared a mere fancy, was 
in truth a heavenly provision against this urgent need. 

The thought explained so much. The devil of greed 
within him, which had urged him to take the money for 
his own use — the gradual unfolding, through this tempta- 
tion, of the desire for some outpouring of the Spirit. 
Here were more marvels than he had time at present to 
consider. The great fact was sufficient, that in the wilder- 
ness the table had been spread. 

‘ ‘ It was wrong to take the money, Merve, ’ ’ he said, his 
face suffused with a heavenly joy; “ we must not forget 


120 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


that — we must weep and pray over that; but it was for 
His service, and He has forgiven us — the money is 
found! ’’ 

‘‘ But when — that is the point,” began Mervyn anx- 
iously; “ it must be by to-morrow morning, and it is 
late ” 

“You will wake to find it on the Bible by your bed- 
side, my brother,” interrupted Morris solemnly, “ and 
then we will give thanks unto the Lord, for He hath done 
marvellous things. Come to supper now; our mother 
will be anxious at our delay. Leave the rest in His 
hands. ’ ’ 

The moon was riding high amid the stars when Morris 
Pugh, closing the door of the sleeping cottage behind 
him with a whispered benediction on its inmates, started 
for his climb to the gap where Ned Blackborough had 
hidden the hundred pounds. The night air struck chill, 
for it was late October, but he was in far too exalted a 
frame of mind to consider such earthly things as over- 
coats or comforters. His exaltation, indeed, would have 
seemed incredible even to the self of six weeks ago ; for, 
despite his enthusiasm, he had been hard-headed and 
practical enough. Now, enervated by constant use of his 
emotions, it seemed to him — full to the brim as he was 
by right of his Cymric birth with imaginative fire, poetry 
passion — that he was going up into the mountain alone 
to meet his Lord and receive a gift from His hands. 

He felt as Moses must have felt on Pisgah, as St. 
Jerome felt when the last Sacrament was vouchsafed to 
him. Those last few weeks had made an ecstatic out of 
the enthusiast. He saw nothing but his Lord, he heard 
nothing but the call to come. 

Marvellous ! Most marvellous ! 

Yes! of a truth! for about him — to him unseen — lay 
the great marvel of the Real Presence in the world, above 
him the marvel of the Real Presence in the skies and 
stars. But the stones were to his eager feet but stum- 
bling-blocks, the glory of the starlight and the moonlight 
was but the halo of a concrete heaven. 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


121 


Still it was very rapture; worth in itself a thousand 
times the petty hundred pounds which had called it into 
being. Put into bald English, here was a man going to 
take money which he wot of, in order to save his brother 
from disgrace. Translated into the terms of emotional 
religion, here was a sinner about to find salvation. 

The night was very clear, very cold. The stars 
sparkled brilliantly, aloofly. There was a suspicion of 
frost-crackle in the thick covering of dew which lay like 
a filmy gossamer quilt over the grassy uplands. The 
startled sheep left a darker track of dew-despoiled 
herbage behind their flying footsteps. There was no 
cloud upon the sky whose velvet darkness seemed devoid 
of light save for the unhaloed moon and the sharp shin- 
ing stars. 

But Morris Pugh saw none of these things. He had 
found what he sought — what all Religions seek — the Self 
that is not yourself. He had found it through an ab- 
straction of the mind, not through the manifold face of 
matter. But the sense of finality, of universal Oneness, 
comes in a thousand ways, and he felt it fully. He could 
have sung in the gladness of his heart, even while his 
stumbling feet bruised themselves over the unheeded 
stones. 

The little rush-fringed pool, by which he had sat with 
the others asserting that money was the root of all evil, 
lay so still, so shining, so set, that it also might have 
been frost-bound — like the heart of man before the Mercy 
of the Most High had touched it. 

The root of all evil ! 

Morris smiled. He knew better now. There was 
nothing evil in the Holiest of Holies. Money was a great 
gift. 

So, as if before an altar, every atom of him, soul and 
body, thrilling with high expectation, he knelt before the 
cleft in the rock to receive what had been given. His 
very hands trembled. 

“ Not unto us. Lord, but unto Thy name,” he mur- 
mured softly. 


122 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


Then came a pause. His fingers, feeling the cleft, 
found it empty. 

Empty ! Incredible ! Impossible ! A great amaze took 
him. He stood up and stared vacantly at the receding 
whiteness of the dew-covered, moonlit steeps. 

Empty ! 

Then what became of 

Of everything! 

He had been so buoyed up by certainty. He had been 
so sure of himself and of his God. He sat down on the 
frost- wet grass after a time and tried to think; but his 
mind was in a maze. He followed one path of thought 
after another, always to be brought up by that barrier 
of feeling that he had been fooled ; or he had fooled him- 
self. Had it not been for his previous exaltation, his 
exultation, he might by degrees have accepted the situa- 
tion and considered which of the three other participants 
in the secret had been beforehand with him. But there 
was no question of being beforehand with him. If what 
he had felt — nay! had known — was true, they had been 
beforehand with God. 

How long he sat, he did not know. It came upon him 
by surprise to hear the voice of a shepherd calling to his 
dogs. He looked round, and lo ! it was long past dawn. 
He must go back and tell Mervyn that he had made a 
mistake ; or w^as it Someone else who had been tricked ? 

When he arrived at the village the first early hour 
had passed, and folk were already beginning the day’s 
work. Ah ! what would Mervyn say, and what would he 
do? 

It was terrible to try the latch of the cottage, find it 
open, and know that his brother must be waiting for 
him; waiting so anxiously. But there was a respite. 
Mervyn was not in. Hwfa Morgan had arrived early, the 
woman who tended the house said, and they had gone 
out together just as she came in to light the fire. 

Morris sat down beside it vaguely relieved. Hwfa 
Morgan might think of something. Meanwhile the 
warmth of the fire was comforting. He must have been 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 123 

very chill. His blood seemed to rush and bound through 
him like a melting river. 

He was startled from a half-doze by Mervyn’s en- 
trance, and he stood up unsteadily. 

“I am sorry, brother,” he began, “ but I — I mean 
some one has failed ” 

Mervyn interrupted him curtly. “ It ’s lucky I didn ’t 
trust to you — but it is all right — the thing’s settled. 
Hwfa Morgan turned up this morning, and as you hadn’t 
come back we talked it over, and he suggested taking 
Edwards into our confidence. So we went over to him, 
and he saw it would be as dangerous to his interests as 
to ours if there was any fuss, so he consented to take 
our security — yours, too, of course — that he shouldn’t 
be a loser, and gave me a voucher of deposit all right. 
It can only be a question of a fortnight or so, for once 
a Central Committee takes over the revival regularly our 
expenses will be paid ” 

“ But the voucher! ” began Morris. 

Mervyn interrupted him impatiently, his naturally 
high colour heightening itself considerably. 

“ Oh! yes! of course. He — he antedated it. Luckily 
there had been no other deposits for three weeks, so the 
numbers on the counterfoils worked all right. And it 
doesn’t really matter to any one, does it! ” 

He spoke a trifle defiantly. 

‘ ‘ No, ’ ’ replied his brother, with an odd sound between 
a sob and a laugh. “ I don’t suppose it matters to — to 
any one. I — I think I’ll go to bed, Merve — I must have 
got a chill on the mountains — I — I don’t feel well.” 

‘ ‘ But there is the meeting, ’ ’ expostulated Mervyn ; “ it 
won’t go without you.” 

Morris shook his head. I should be no use, Mervyn 
— I — I can’t even think.” And then, strong man as he 
was, he broke down into sobbing. 


CHAPTER XI 


A WHIRLING spin and din of machinery filled the air. 
All around was endless revolution, above was the cease- 
less, curiously slow progression of the driving bands, 
those heavy-footed transmitters of elusive incomprehensi- 
ble force, and below, under the great iron framings which 
held half a million machines in position, were men and 
women, grime-covered, fluff-covered, dust-covered, ac- 
cording to their trade, all moving about like automata 
with dead-alive hearts and hands, attending on some mar- 
vellous adaptation of mechanical power devised by those 
sane human hearts and hands out of their own powers. 
Pulley and lever, and inclined plane, with all their end- 
less derivatives, were hard at work, for Blackborough was 
the biggest manufacturing centre in the kingdom, and 
Blackborough was in the middle of its day’s work. 

And then, suddenly, a clock struck. Another given 
moment of eternity had passed, the wheels stopped, the 
throbbing air grew still. Then from a thousand wide 
gateways humanity began to stream forth to flood the 
streets. The stream was thinner, less continuous than 
usual, for it was Saturday ; therefore pay-day, and tallies 
had to be made up at the cashier ’s desk. 

So they came out by twos and threes, counting their 
gold and silver. For half Blackborough, the past six 
days had resolved themselves into pounds, shillings, and 
pence. 

“ She won’t be ’ere likely, o’ Monday,” sniggered one 
of two girls, their hair already in curling-pins against 
the evening’s outing, as they passed a weary-looking wo- 
man whose thin shawl failed to conceal her figure, and 
whose heavy foot dragged over the greasy pavement. 

Wot ever did she go and get married for, an’ to sech 
124 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


125 

a drunken fellar too. She was a good-lookin’ gel and ’ad 
a good time four year back. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Oh ! She ’ll be at it agin in a month ’s time none the 
worse, ’ ’ giggled the other girl pertly. ‘ ‘ She lost ’er two 
fust, an’ this ’un ’ull go too, you’ll see. Just as well, 
and they cornin’ so rapid. My ! They is fair beasts, they 
husbands ; but I ’d see mine f uther fust, I would ! ’ ’ 

And then, as they hurried home to dress, they fell to 
discussing the new hats which were “ to do the real trick 
with their boys ’ ’ on Sunday, when a long cycle ride was 
to end in a midnight train, a late supper, and after that 
bed — if there was time ! 

Even in their mill garb, they helped to swell the gen- 
eral tendency to lark and titter in the streets; but in 
truth those same streets were a somewhat curious sight 
on Saturday afternoons, when, with money in its pocket, 
humanity was, at last, at leisure to be human; to loiter, 
to laugh, and to make love. For the upper crust of 
Blackborough society — ^the old red-sandstone section la- 
belled “ Court ” in the social stratification of the postal 
directory — made a point of rural week-ends, so leaving 
the human pie free from any covering of culture. 

It was amusing to watch. Advocates of realism would 
have found pictures and to spare amid the overdressed 
girls whose week’s wage had been squandered on their 
finery, in the undersized boys prematurely given to ogle 
who had spent theirs on football, bets, and cheap 
cigarettes. 

And as the daylight died down the squalor of it all 
showed still more clearly beneath the flaring gas-jets. 
Especially in the market streets where all the week’s 
refuse of the great city was exposed for sale, warranted 
sound, while buyer and seller alike winked over the 
warranty ! 

Purple heaps of fly-blown meat labelled ‘ ‘ prime cuts ’ ’ 
in the butcher-shops, battered tomatoes on the barrows 
with best home-grown ” flaunting in green and gold 
lettering above them; “ genuine ” butter, “ fresh ” eggs, 
and “ selected dairy-fed pork,” jostling each other in a 
booth. 


126 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


Such is the market which centuries of civilisation have 
provided for the poor. 

And the endless crowd passed and repassed, with 
money in its pocket, lingering in groups about the gin 
shines at the corners, giggling, cursing, gossiping, quar- 
relling; each person treading on the heels of the next, 
and leaving no human footfall on the oozy pavement; 
only blisters and scars, only the certainty that some 
living thing had walked through the mire and carried 
some of the dirt away with it. 

Fine turbit! fine fresh Grimsby turbit! ’’ shouted 
a man with a barrow. As he turned down a darker by- 
street, a phosphorescent glimmer shone from his pile of 
stale plaice as a testimony to eternal truth ! 

Peter Ramsay, house surgeon to St. Peter’s Hospital 
round the corner, making his way thither on his bicycle, 
followed on the glimmer, vaguely interested as to whether 
that semi-putrescent fish bought for Sunday’s breakfast 
would send him a new patient. 

“ It ’s fresh, is it 1 ” asked a wistful-looking old woman 
from a doorway. 

“ Smell it, laidy! There ain’t no extry charge,” re- 
torted the coster surlily. 

The old woman shook her head. That test was too 
stern. “ She comes from Cornwall,” she murmured to 
herself, “ so ’twud put her more in mind o’ ’ome, nor 
liver, wouldn’t it? ” 

There was a chink of coppers behind Peter Ramsay 
as he rode on, thinking that some folk ought to be pun- 
ished for trying to ptomaine-poison the king’s lieges. 

But his mind was full of something else, and before 
five minutes were over, he was looking down on a sleeping 
boy, and wondering vaguely for the hundredth time if 
he or the other doctors were right? Would an opera- 
tion — not a known one, of course, but one based on new 
lines — be of any use or not? He would dearly have 
liked to try. 

In truth here, in the spick and span ward, amid those 
who had been brought in sickened by that outside squalor, 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


127 


it was difficult tp realise any lack of hygiene, any lack 
of fair dealing. Yet that lack had left its mark on the 
sleeping face of the boy. It lay with a cunning elusive 
look on its sharp features among the white pillows. What 
a shutting of the door when the steed was stolen it all 
was ! 

Looking at him critically, preternaturally sharp, pre- 
ternaturally diseased in mind and body as he was, it 
seemed to be a life not much worth saving; and yet! — 
if it could be saved! 

The upright wrinkles on Peter Ramsay’s forehead 
corrugated the transverse ones as he told himself it was 
useless to think of it here ; in Vienna it would have been 
different. He had already so far as in him lay en- 
couraged the performance of a critical new operation 
the very next week, and one was enough at a^ time. He 
was very keen, very confident, this young surgeon, fresh 
from his life abroad ; ready to criticise even his superiors 
if they seemed to him old-fashioned. For his hands 
reaching out into the darkness around him had felt the 
touch of Something — Something that he would not lose 
touch of though it eluded him; so he followed it fast, 
almost heedlessly. 

This boy ? If he had had time or money ! Then 

suddenly he smiled. The thought of Ned Blackborough ’s 
hidden hundred pounds came to him as it had come more 
than once during the last few months. Here was a case 
for it, only unfortunately he had not the time for private 
work. Still it was odd what a backing that hundred 
pounds had been to all sorts of day-dreams. Why it 
should be so, was a psychological problem; since after 
all, it was but a paltry sum, and, in all probability, it no 
longer existed for him ; for there had been distinct greed 
on at least two of the faces which had watched its con- 
cealment. It had, no doubt, been appropriated long ago. 
So the boy must go out, comfortably fitted with regula- 
tion crutches, to live, possibly, two or three years at the 
outside. And yet 

He bent regretfully, tracing the twist of the body be- 


128 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


neath the bed-clothes, then looked up at the lingering 
of a passing footstep. 

“ Good evening, Mrs. Tressilian. I beg your pardon, 
Nurse Helen — I am always forgetting.” 

‘ ‘ Because you will not remember, ’ ’ she replied with a 
smile. Then her eyes grew soft; she bent over the bed 
in her turn; ‘‘ Can nothing really be done for him, 
doctor? He is so very patient.” 

There was something about this woman, Peter Ramsay 
felt, which took him away, as it were, into a desert place 
apart with nothing in it save himself, truth, and a 
listener. He had felt it from the moment he had first 
seen her; and he had told her the truth even then. It 
was another curious psycho-physiological problem which 
evaded dissection and analysis; so he had evaded her, 
ever since — carrying out her promise to herself — she had 
appeared as a nurse in the hospital now nearly five 
months ago. But the spell remained. 

“ Nothing,” he replied, half-speaking to himself, and 
following up his own train of thought ; ‘ ‘ Nothing at least 
that will be done — and it would be but an off chance 
anyhow. ’ ’ 

She caught him up swiftly. “ Then there is a 
chance? ” 

Peter Ramsay ’s face became a study in cynical reserve ; 
he turned away. ‘‘ My dear lady,” he said, “ haven T 
you been a nurse long enough to know a doctor’s con- 
venient formula, ‘ While there’s life, there’s hope.’ ” 

To his annoyance as he moved on to the door, she 
moved also. “ I am off duty,” she remarked, as if she 
had not appreciated his slamming of the door in her face, 
” so it is no breach of rules to tell you that I have had a 
letter from Ned Blackborough. He is coming back from 
the Mountains of the Moon — that was about his last 
address, I believe — but his arm is still troublesome. I 
should like to show you what he says. ’ ’ 

They were in the vestibule now, and Dr. Ramsay 
paused. He rather admired her pertinacity, and matched 
her coolness with his own. 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


129 


Certainly. May I come in now — or stay! You will 
want to go out, I expect. Will you look in at my diggings 
after dinner? I might be able to give you a cup of 
coffee, if you will ? ’ ’ 

“ I have no doubt the matron will allow me,” she 
laughed. “ Good-bye for the present. Dr. Ramsay.” 

As he sat waiting for her in a room which beggared 
description by its untidiness, he felt distinctly nervous; 
but he was becoming accustomed to the fact that she 
had a disturbing or rather an exhilarating effect on his 
nerves. He was a trifle irritated at the fact, a trifle 
irritated with her because she had fulfilled his pre- 
dictions. 

She was quite normal, and she made an excellent 
nurse. He had had to admit so much. But it was not 
her natural metier — that was — something very different. 

Possibly he was right. At any rate Helen, entering 
the room, stood absolutely aghast at its utter lack of 
comfort. She had been learning much about Peter Ram- 
say of which she had had no idea, when she came into 
touch with him in the hospital. To begin with, he was 
much younger than she had guessed him. She doubted if 
he was much older, perhaps not quite as old as she was 
herself. Clever as he was, he had most of the doctor’s 
battle for name and fame before him ; and there was a 
carelessness of public opinion, a certain roughness of 
very solid truth about him, joined to an utter disregard 
of his own comfort or that of any one else, except a 
patient’s, which made her feel that here was a man who, 
above most men, needed a strong, capable, tactful woman 
to look after him privately, if he was to succeed publicly. 

And, though the sick adored him, and every one ad- 
mitted his skill, he was not one of those men who appeal 
to the world at large. He was too swift, too incisive. No 
young woman would darn his stockings because he was 
a. dear ; the very maid-servants could leave his room like 
this ! 

“ I don’t expect it’s good,” he said ruefully, pouring 
her out a cup of coffee, ‘ ‘ but I ’m not up to these things. 


130 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


My mother spoilt me. She died three years ago. She 
was a widow, and I was her only son. ’ ’ 

Helen, sipping at her coffee, told herself that explained 
a good deal. He was capable enough professionally, but 
— the coffee was execrable ! 

“ It isn’t very nice,” she admitted, “ and why doesn’t 
the housemaid ” 

“Oh! I can’t have my things touched,” he inter- 
rupted with a frown; adding as if to change an unwel- 
come subject, “ So the arm is stiff. I’m sorry. We shall 
have to try electricity. There’s a place in London ” 

He was off on some new cure, his red bronze eyes 
shining, his whole bearing full of confidence and 
vitality. She 'waited till the subject was exhausted, and 
then put down her cup, fixing her eyes humorously on 
his face. 

“And now, please, about that boy — No. 36 in the 
Queen’s ward — I came to speak of him, you know.” 

Peter Ramsay faced her half angrily; then he smiled. 
“ Of course I knew, though I don’t see why you wish 
to find out my opinion. ’ ’ 

“Possibly because I have an idea that your opinion 
may be right, ’ ’ she replied coolly. ‘ ‘ What is it you wish 
to do ? Something quite new, I expect. ’ ’ 

He frowned. ‘ ‘ There you are mistaken. It — or some- 
thing like it — has been done at Vienna.” 

“ By Pagenheim? ” 

“ What do you know of Pagenheim? I beg your par- 
don! I was forgetting that women know everything 
nowadays. Yes, Mrs. Tressilian, by Pagenheim. He was 
my master.” 

She kneAV that; knew also that the great surgeon had 
sent him back to England as his best pupil. 

“ Well,” she said after a time, “ If you won’t tell me 
I will order the Wiener Hospital Blatt ; I shall see all 
about it there I suppose. ’ ’ 

This time he laughed out loud. “ You are very per- 
sistent, so I will save you the trouble of finding out in 
which number it is reported. ’ ’ 


A SOYEREIOl^ REMEDY 


131 


When he had finished, she sat looking at him for a 
moment, feeling a sudden motherly desire to help this 
curiously capable, curiously inept man, whose strong 
white surgeon ’s hands showed themselves firmly gripping 
each other beyond frail, frayed wristbands. 

“ But surely if you hold that there is a chance of life 
for him ’’ she began. 

He rose, and resting his arm on the mantelpiece, 
looked down on her mentally and physically. 

‘ ‘ Life ! ” he echoed. ‘ ‘ What is life worth to him ^ and 
how do you know that what we call death ends it ? Mind 
you, I’m not speaking from my own beliefs — ^they are — 
well! not much! Belief is positive — I’m not. But you, 
Mrs. Tressilian. Why do you and your sort hold this 
life so dear, and why are you all at the same time in such 
a blessed hurry to get another hour or two of it in which 
to do something when you believe in a fuller, better life 
beyond death ? It isn ’t logical. My mother used to say 
that when she taught me, a three-year-old, about Cain 
and Abel, I refused to give blame to the former on the 
ground that he had only sent Abel to heaven. That 
should be your position. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ And yours ? ’ ’ 

“Oh! mine is simple. To a doctor life is merely the 
converse of death, and death is the devil! We cannot 
prescribe for a corpse — or for the matter of that levy a 
fee for so doing — and that is the end and aim of doc- 
toring. ’ ’ 

“ Why should you say those things. Dr. Ramsay? ” 
she asked quietly. “You know you never take one — at 
least you would take none from me.” 

He flushed slightly. “ Because I did nothing — and 
you were an interesting case. I levy a big fee of experi- 
ence, Mrs. Tressilian. But concerning this boy — ^my 

colleagues are against me, and ” He shrugged his 

shoulders. “ I don’t think the world will come to an 
end if No. 36 goes out of it. I shouldn’t mind if it did — 
it isn’t worth much.” 

‘ ‘ But are you not bound ? ’’she persisted. “You have 


132 


A SOYEREIGH^ REMEDY 


no right to judge what his life might be. A doctor’s duty 
is to save life and defy death at all costs.” 

His face softened immensely. 

“ You have got it quite pat, Mrs. Tressilian. That is 
my duty undoubtedly ; but — but I can ’t afford to do it — 
as yet — and after all, there is plenty of time — we have 
a few centuries of evolution before us yet. ’ ’ 

“ But you — you yourself? ” she asked, scanning his 
face eagerly. 

“ I,” he answered. “ I am a temporary aggregation 
of molecules, or, let us say, electrons. By and by we 
shall find another word to express the infinitely little — or 
the infinitely great ’ ’ 

Here a shrill whistle from the speaking-tube made 
Helen start and Peter Ramsay smile. “ That, I’ll bet, 
will be the infinitely little. ’ ’ He leant over to listen, and 
his face hardened. ‘ ‘ I must go — an old man, apparently 
in a fit, brought in from the street. Good-bye, Mrs. Tres- 
silian. I’ll try and save his life anyhow.” 

She lingered on in the room for a while after he had 
left it, laying an orderly hand almost unconsciously here 
and there, and feeling that, had she dared, she would 
like to have gone into his bedroom beyond, and seen if 
there were any buttons on the back of his shirts. She 
remembered having heard him ask the matron for the 
loan of a safety-pin ; that looked ominous. 

He, meanwhile, going hastily into the surgery, saw a 
white-haired figure lying flat on the table, and, having 
the gift of swift diagnosis, called as he entered, 

“ Prop him up, please — and — dresser — amyl, sharp.” 

Held back thus by swift help from sinking down to 
perfect rest, the weary heart rallied, and after a time the 
old man’s set face wavered, he opened his large, pale-blue 
eyes, and looked about him. 

Then the doctor looked about him also. ‘ ‘ Hullo ! Crut- 
tenden, ’ ’ he said, ‘ ‘ you here ? ’ ’ 

“ I brought him in,” replied Ted Cruttenden; “ he 
was speaking to some work-people in the street when he 
collapsed. ’ ’ 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 133 

“ If you know his friends, you had better send for 
them to take him home — he ought not to go alone. ' ’ 

The patient was by this time able to smile. Lying 
back on the pillow, he looked extraordinarily frail and 
refined, and his voice, urbane to a degree, matched his 
appearance. 

‘ ' Friends ! ” he echoed. ‘ ‘ I have none. I left friend- 
ship behind me — with other things — years ago.” 

“ Then, if you know no one, you’d better stop here,” 
suggested Peter Ramsay brusquely. 

“ I said nothing of knowledge, sir,” replied the old 
man; ” I know many, and every one knows me. I am 
Sylvanus Smith.” 

Dr. Ramsay glanced swiftly at Ted Cruttenden, as if 
to refresh a casual memory. “ Sylvanus Smith,” he 
echoed. “ Oh yes! I remember. Then you live near 
Dinas, and have a beautiful granddaughter — and — and 
you know Cruttenden ? ’ ’ 

Mr. Sylvanus Smith sat up, and flushed a delicate pink. 
“ Excuse me; neither of those qualifications have any 
bearing on the question. I am President of the Social 
Congress, and I do happen to have a slight acquaintance 
with this gentleman. I have to thank you, sir. I saw you 
amongst my audience, and I presume ” 

“ Not at all — not at all,” interrupted Ted. “ If you 
like. Dr. Ramsay, I will see him home. ’ ’ 

As he said the words, he knew that here was a stroke 
of luck. Without in any way infringing on his compact 
with Ned Blackborough, here was an opportunity of in- 
gratiating himself with Aura ’s legal guardian. He would 
be a fool not to take it, a fool not to make the very most 
of it. 

And yet when, a whole week afterwards, the old man, 
leaning out of the through carriage to Wales, in which 
Ted had placed him duly fortified with papers and egg 
sandwiches, shook him warmly by the hand, saying, 
“ Then you will come to Cwmfairnog at Christmas.” 
The words brought a distinct feeling of meanness to the 
hearer. Ned Blackborough would have to go alone to 


134 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


the inn. That was not what had been intended ; but then 
the whole business was absurd. He had a great mind to 
back out of it altogether. And here the swift thought 
came, that from what he had seen of Mr. Sylvanus Smith, 
a lordling would have scantier grace than a commoner; 
so that it might be as well if Ned 

A twinge of remorse had to be stilled by the recollec- 
tion that everything was fair in love and war, and by 
heaven — no one could love Aura better than he did. No ! 
no one! 

Of course, he would have been a fool not to take the 
luck sent him, and he was a still greater fool to feel that 
there was in it any stealing of a march on Ned Black- 
borough. 

What would Hirsch say? For, ever since he had 
given himself up soul and body to that great man, he had 
formed a habit of referring to him as his standard of 
conduct. The result here was that Ted positively blushed 
at his own scruples. 

No, if — there was any unpleasantness — it would be 
better to end the compact, and let them each do their best 
on their own footing. 

His was very different to what it had been five months 
ago. There was nothing now to prevent his being as rich 
as Ned Blaekborough ; or, in the future, having such a 
title as his. For at bottom, all things were a question of 
money. That he had learnt from Mr. Hirsch. A quick 
wave of eager ambition sent the young blood tingling 
to the finger-tips. He felt glad he might have to fight 
fair for the girl he loved. Besides, it would be so much 
fairer on her. She ought not to be deceived. This highly 
moral thought brought with it such a sense of conscious 
virtue as sent him back to his office thinking deliberately 
how Hirsch would admire Aura when he saw her — in 
pink satin and diamonds of course. 


CHAPTER XII 


Ned Blackborough had been to the Mountains of the 
Moon ; at least so he told his cousin when he drove her 
out from the hospital to New Park the very day of his 
arrival at home. 

“ Call it the Mountains of the Moon, my dear,’’ he 
had said, “ it sounds definite and may mean so much — 
or so little. ’ ’ 

This was about a week before Christmas. It gave 
promise of being a hard one, for a slight sprinkling, more 
of frost than snow, lay on the roads, and the horses’ 
roughened hoofs echoed cheerfully through the keen air. 
It was exhilarating, Helen felt, after those long months 
at the hospital broken only by dull constitutionals. She 
had begun these by setting her face always to the coun- 
try ; but after a time the long rows of workmen ’s houses, 
the dreary muddiness of gravel side-walkings, the in- 
tolerable admixture of bricks and bakers ’ carts had driven 
her back to wander aimlessly through crowded streets. 
There she could at any rate see civilisation, pure and 
undefiled by attempts after the Garden of Eden ! 

So this was joy. The hedgerows were black with un- 
utterable soot, the sky was grey with smoke, but the birds 
were twittering among the smutty hips and haws, and 
overhead a flight of cawing rooks made the grey seem 
light by their blackness. 

She looked round for sympathy to Ned, and was struck 
by his face. 

“ You’re looking awfully well, Ned,” she remarked; 

What have you been doing to yourself? You look a 
perfect boy.” 

He laughed. 


135 


136 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


‘ ‘ Having a good time. I found an old man — but that 
passes. Meanwhile I expect I shall require some healthful 
calm. My manager tells me the business has been going 
to pot since I’ve been away. I shall have to interfere 
myself, I expect, but that won’t be till after Christmas. 
How’s Ramsay getting on V’ 

Helen looked a trifle stitf. “ You had better ask him 
yourself, you will see him when you drive me back ; I only 
know that he has resigned his appointment.” 

” So he wrote me. Had a row apparently with the 
Governing Body — that was ill advised. ’ ’ 

“ Very,” said Helen coolly, “ but then Dr. Ramsay has 
no tact, and is a very obstinate person. Is that New 
Park? You know I have never been here before.” 

Ned Blackborough shot a faintly amused glance at her. 
“ It is New Park. Did you ever see an inheritance more 
calculated to make a man cut his throat? ” 

It was indeed unexpressibly dreary in its long pompous 
facade of regularly recessed windows, each with its sham 
pilasters and heavy entablature. 

“ It always seems as if it had a sick headache, and it 
gives me one to look at it. It’s a fact,” added Ned, as 
Helen laughed. “It is positively more hideous than — 
than the Sea View Hotel. I hear, by the way, they have 
rebuilt that. Have you heard anything more of Hirsch 
since then? ” 

Helen gave a fine flush. “ He comes down to Black- 
borough on business. And I have seen him. He is really 
frightfully distressed because I will not let him pay back 
that money. Last time he nearly wept. ’ ’ 

“ He wept because he could not understand,” para- 
phrased Ned. “It is not his fault. It is astonishing 
how little sense of abstract justice and fairness people 
have as a rule. They’re so set on mercy and loving- 
kindness that they forget the eye-for-an-eye, the tooth- 
for-a-tooth ideal. Well, here we are. The house is not 
quite so bad inside, but it is pretty awful.” 

It was, though it had been built and upholstered to 
order regardless of cost. Still there was a certain com- 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


137 


fort in the dull red flock of its walls, the dull red fleece 
of its floors, and when once you reached it, the fire lit up 
the marvellous expanse of priceless tiles, and steel, and 
ormulu, and bronze, cheerfully enough. 

Don’t try and sit on any of those chairs,” said Ned, 
“ they’re screwed to their places, I believe. Here’s a 
basket one of mine ; and will you pour out tea ? ’ ’ 

Yet it was pleasant enough sitting there by the fire in 
the growing dusk, and Ned’s heart gave a great throb as 
he thought of Aura in her blue smock walking uncon- 
cernedly over the priceless pile carpets as if they had 
been Kidderminster. And she would be right. When 
she was there all other things sank into insignificance. 

“ It’s terribly big,” said Helen. “ You ought to mar- 
ry, Ned.” 

“ I suppose I ought,” he replied solemnly, but his 
thoughts were simply running riot over the suggestion; 
“ it is too big for one.” 

And then he saw a vision of a blue smock held con- 
fidingly by a little toddling child, and something in him 
seemed to rise up and choke him, so that he had to get 
up, and walk away from his cousin’s curious eyes. So 
to change the subject he began hurriedly — 

“ I didn’t tell you, did I, about that old man I met 
in the desert — right away from everybody ? I don ’t be- 
lieve he was real, but he was a wonder. If you talked 
Herbert Spencer with him he replied with Nietzsche. 
There wasn ’t anything he didn ’t seem to know, and that 
he hadn’t dismissed as not worth knowing. And yet 
he knew nothing. If you hurled an example at him 
he was floored. It was all pure thought. He never did 
anything else but think. You see he was one of their 
holiest men, and he had sat in the same place for fifty 
years. ’ ’ 

“You have been back to India, Ned,” she exclaimed, 
“ you know’ you have; and I sent all my letters to Al- 
giers. ’ ’ 

He came over to her and sat on the arm of her chair, 
as he used to do when he was a boy. 


138 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


“ They were forwarded — at intervals/’ he remarked 
coolly. “ Have you never, Nell, wanted to run away 
for a bit and find yourself naked, out in the open? ” 
And then, airily, he began to hum that graceless ditty of 
young subalterns at Pekin when the Embassy had been 
relieved and the Summer Palace occupied, and the allied 
army amused itself with burlesques on the vanished foe : 

“ ‘ Fancy me, in this frosty weather. 

Posing as Venus among the heather, 

Fancy me in the altogether. 

At my time of life! ’ ” 


“ Really, Ned! ” exclaimed Helen, unable to repress 
her smiles, ‘‘ You are the most ridiculous boy. But if 
I am to see the domain it is time I began. I must be 
back by five o’clock.” 

They were but just in time when he set her down at 
the hospital and sought out Dr. Ramsay. 

He found him writing for dear life, his face positively 
aglow with vitality and fire. 

“ Smashing ’em up? ” asked Ned, after the first wel- 
come was over and he had lit a cigarette. 

Peter Ramsay shifted the papers a trifle shamefacedly. 
“ Yes! ” he replied; “ it isn’t a bit of good, of course; 
but it relieves my feelings and hurts theirs. ’ ’ 

“ How did it come about? ” 

“ Didn’t Mrs. Tressilian tell you? Well, I suppose 
I have been a bit of a fool — and yet, I don’t see quite 
what else I could have done. I tell you, Blackborough, 
there isn’t a spot in England on which you can tread 
firmly without crushing a vested interest. Take, for 
instance, that pint of beer business. I suppose you know 
that every one in this hospital is entitled to one pint of 
beer a day — ^typhoid fever patients, dying patients — the 
whole stock, lock, and barrel of nurses, doctors, porters, 
and such like. If the beer isn’t drunk it’s at any rate 
paid for. Think of the vested interests that means. So 
when I suggested retrenchments, and took the trouble to 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


139 


lay the German and even the Scotch figures before the 
governors — it costs a third less at least to run a patient 
in Scotland — there was the devil and all to pay ; and — 
and some one made disparaging remarks about porridge, 
and so, of course, there was a row. ...” 

Then about the operation.” Peter Ramsay got up 
and began to walk about the room, and his voice became 
more argumentative. “ You see, it was done, and the 
man died. Well, I wrote an account of it for the medical 
paper at Vienna, and some one got hold of it and trans- 
lated it — well ! not quite fairly. You see, it was a ques- 
tion whether a certain lesion — but that’s a technical de- 
tail — I hadn T approved at the time, and I said so ; and 
they made out I asserted the man had been killed through 
incompetence. All I meant was that it wasn’t a fair 
test of the feasibility of the operation, and it wasn’t. I 
tried to smooth them over, but, as I said at the time, one 
must tell the truth sometimes.” 

Ned Blackborough interrupted with a sudden laugh. 
‘ ‘ Did that smooth them over ? ’ ’ 

“ Not in the least,” replied Peter Ramsay quite seri- 
ously, “ and they wouldn’t have it either that the trans- 
lator was a fool and did not know German. So I re- 
signed. There is never any good in trying to work with 
people who aren’t satisfied.” 

” None,” assented Ned succinctly, “And what are you 
going to do? ” 

“ Go back to Pagenheim if nothing else turns up. One 
can live on ivilrst over there and no one thinks the 
— the worse of you, as they do here. My time isn’t 
up till February, but I’ve offered to go at once if they 
like.” 

‘ ‘ New Park is at your disposal. ’ ’ 

“ You’re awfully kind. If I go — perhaps. But some- 
thing may crop up.” 

As Ned Blackborough drove round to keep his ap- 
pointment with Ted Cruttenden at his office, he told 
himself joyously that anything might crop up. These 
next few weeks had been to him for long so full of pos- 


140 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


sibilities, that the whole world seemed to him capable 
of launching out into incredible action, of kicking over 
the traces even of conventional chance. 

His greeting of Ted Cruttenden rather took the latter 
aback, for he had been carefully preparing for the 
interview. 

‘ ‘ How are you ? Will the 11.50 suit you on the 24th ? — 
it suits me. ’ ’ 

Ted coughed and looked a little embarrassed, for the 
inward conviction that, to be quite fair, the invitation to 
Cwmfairnog ought not to have been accepted came back 
with the first glance at Ned ’s — at his friend ’s face. Still 
it was no use shirking the subject, so he buckled himself 
up for his task. 

“ It will suit all right,” he replied boldly, '‘You had 
better write for a room at the inn. I — I am going to 
Cwmfairnog. ’ ’ 

“ Cwmfairnog? ” echoed Ned incredulously. 

“Yes — I’m going to stay with — with Sylvanus 
Smith.” For all his boldness he had hesitated, and Ned 
Blackborough fastened on the pause. 

“ Why didn’t you say with Aura? ” There was a 
trace of scorn in his voice, which Ted resented hotly. 

“ Because the old man asked me when he came up 
here. I know it doesn’t sound quite fair, Lord Black- 
borough, but one can’t help luck. He felt ill, and I 
happened to be there, and I had to look after him. Then 
he asked me to come and stop; and so of course I ac- 
cepted. You would have done the same if you had 
been me.” 

Ned Blackborough was silent for a moment ; then said, 
“ Perhaps.” 

“ Oh ! hang it all ! ” broke in Ted. ‘ ‘ If you are not 
satisfied, you needn’t feel bound in any way. In fact, 
I have been thinking a lot, and I have come to the conclu- 
sion that your plan isn’t quite fair on her. I think she 
ought to know; and I’d much rather she had her fair 
choice. You see, neither she nor her grandfather really 
care for money. ’ ’ 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


141 


Ned Blackborough smiled. ‘‘ I see/’ he said grimly. 

On the whole, I believe yon are right.” Then he 
thought for a moment or two. “So be it! Each for 
himself, and the devil take the hindmost! But we will 
stick to time and place. And if you want a day or two’s 
extra leave I ” 

Ted blushed a little this time. “ I — I — am not em- 
ployed by the firm any longer, Lord Blackborough, ” he 
said hurriedly; “ You have been away — besides, a clerk 
on a hundred and fifty would hardly come to your ears. 
But the fact is that — that Mr. Hirsch offered me three 
hundred. ’ ’ 

Ned Blackborough ’s face took on an expression of 
amusement. ‘ ‘ I begin to understand. So you are on the 
high road to opulence ! Now I wonder why he did that ? 
— you shall tell me in the train — 11.50 — for I must be 
off, as I ’ve some business to get through before closing- 
time. ’ ’ 

The business appeared to amuse him also, for the ex- 
pression did not fade from his face as he drove to the 
Public Library, hunted up a book on Wales, then drove 
to a house-agent ’s and gave an order, and finally stopped 
at those general entrepreneurs, Williams and Edwards, 
and gave another. Myfanwy Jones, catching sight of 
him on his way to the senior partner ’s office, volunteered 
a remark to the buyer in her department that she knew 
that fellow, had seen him down at her father’s, and was 
crushed by the reply : ‘ ‘ Him ! Why, he is Lord Black- 
borough — the richest peer in England.” 

She brazened it out by saying “ Get along but as 
a matter of fact Ned was repeating much the same in- 
formation in the office. “lam Lord Blackborough,” he 
was saying, ^ ‘ you need spare no expense. Only see that 
everything is well done.” 

The words had a marvellous djmamic power, setting 
telegraphic wires and express vans and confidential 
clerks in motion. The result being that when Ned and 
Ted, who had travelled down third class together in 
very friendly fashion got out at the station nearest to 


142 


A SOYEREION REMEDY 


Dinas there were two very smart motors cars awaiting 
them. 

“ If you will excuse me for a moment/^ said Lord 
Blackborough to his companion, I’ll just see my cousin, 
Mrs. Tressilian — ^you remember her of course — off for 
Plas Afon. I’ve taken it for three weeks and Ramsay 
and some other people are coming down, so we ought to 
have a good time. Then I can take you round in the 
Panhard to Cwmfairnog. It will only make a difference 
of a mile or two, for Plas Afon, is just the other side of 
Dinas, you know. ’ ’ 

Ted waiting on the platform while Helen, another lady, 
and a maid were stowed away in the covered car, began 
to realise that Ned was not going to forgo a single ad- 
vantage. It was to be check and counter-check on both 
sides. It had been quick work, and to get hold of Plas 
Afon — the show place of the neighbourhood — must have 
needed money indeed ! Some day he would be able to do 
that sort of thing if he chose. But he would not choose. 
He would never be such a reckless devil as Blackborough. 
Yet he could not help admiring the go and fire of the 
fellow ! 

“ So you are going to play the prince over me,” he 
said when they had settled comfortably down under a 
priceless fox-skin rug and Ned was sending the motor 
up the hill full speed. 

Lord Blackborough laughed. “ Not at all! I had to 
check your move somehow. I couldn’t go — as you go — 
to Mahomet, so I had to try and induce Mahomet to 
come to me. You will decline my invitations, no doubt, 
but I shall have done my best. Personally,” he added. 
‘ ‘ I would much rather have stuck to the old plan. Any- 
how we won ’t defile Cwmfairnog with the smell of petrol. 
We’ll leave the motor at the bridge — ^you can send for 
your things afterwards — and walk up. Ye Gods! How 
beautiful this country is in winter. ’ ’ 

It was, indeed. The hills lay so still, so soft beneath 
the pale-blue wintry sky, the distant ones greyly trans- 
parent, the near ones showing rounded, red-brown 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


143 


bracken-covered lights against rounded, misty, violet 
shadows. The very frost rime on each leaf, each blade 
of grass, looked soft, and the gold of the slanting sunlight 
seemed to warm the very icicles which drooped from the 
high moss-covered, fern-clad banks showing where some 
trickle of water dropped from the hillside above. But 
it was up the wooded ravines where the bare branches 
of the oak scrub followed each curving contour that the 
ineffable hues of blent shadows and shine showed to 
their fullest. They were valleys of perfect rest, deep 
blue in their depths, jasper, jewelled with crystals on 
their heights. 

The footsteps of the two echoed sharply among the 
rocks. Their shadows, blent into one, preceded them. 
Yet the thought of both went further ahead still. There 
were no flowers now, but the brambles dead-green and 
russet and gold, still thrust out withered fruit-branches 
across their path. The leafless trees gave clearer vision 
now. They could see across the stream. There was the 
garden, the lawn, and on it, by heaven, reaching down 
red holly-berries from an old tree was a figure in white — 
Aura herself ! 

Ned gave a view holloa. She turned roimd, waved one 
hand, then dropping her berries waved both. 

The thought of the long round by the rhododendrons 
and the drawbridge was too much for them. The parapet 
was low, the stream lower still. In a moment they were 
over it, and racing to meet her like a couple of schoolboys. 

She laughed to see them, holding out both hands. 

“ What a hurry you are in,” she cried. “ So you 
have both come. Grandfather said you wouldn't, but 
Martha and I thought it wiser to get the two rooms ready 
— and I was right ! ' ' 

Her welcome disarmed rivalry, and gave both the 
young men a desire to fall at her feet and kiss the hem of 
her garment. But they repressed it. 

“ Of course we have both come! ” replied Ned im- 
perturbably. Are we not the inseparable two-headed, 
four-armed, four-legged monster, Edward Cruttenden? 


144 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


don ’t interrupt me, Ted, I am coming to that by and by. 
Only Miss — Miss — do you know I don’t happen to know 
your surname. Is it Smith? ” 

She shook her head with a smile. “ Graham — but 
every one calls me Aura. ’ ’ 

Miss Aura,” went on Ned doubtfully. 

She looked at him and her eyes twinkled. 

‘ ‘ Put on the H, please, if you are going to speak like 
Martha. Only it sounds better without any prefix.” 

For some reason or other both the young men found 
themselves blushing and their hearts beating. 

“ Much nicer,” assented Ted with fervour; but Ned 
made an elision. 

‘ ‘ I was going to tell you that in addition to Edward 
Cruttenden I have — for my sins — to answer to another 
name — ^Lord Blackborough. ’ ’ 

She stared and frowned. 

“You mean,” she said slowly, “ that as they put it 
in the books you are Edward Cruttenden, Lord Black- 
borough? ” 

“ Edward Cruttenden Gibbs, to be strictly according 
to Debrett,” he answered meekly. “ I had to take the 
name when I came into the title three years ago. ’ ’ 

A distinct look of disappointment showed on her face. 
“ It is a very great pity,” she said still more slowly; 
then she added more cheerfully. “ However, I suppose 
it can’t be helped. Only when I thought of you it was 
always as Ned and Ted. ’ ’ She glanced at the latter and 
smiled. 

“ So far as I am concerned there is no reason why 
you shouldn’t continue ” he began. 

“ No reason at all,” interrupted Ned with the first 
note of rivalry in his voice. “ Let us remain Ned and 
Ted for — for this week at any rate.” 

“ This week,” she echoed, looking from one to the 
other, ‘ ‘ I don ’t quite understand. ’ ’ Then suddenly, for 
the first time in her life she blushed. It was extremely 
uncomfortable, and she felt vaguely annoyed with both 
the young men. So she turned to them stiffly. “ Will 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 145 

you come and see grandfather and have tea first, or go to 
your rooms — ^you know where they are, ^ ’ 

There was a pause, broken accusingly hy Ted. ‘ ‘ Lord 

Blackborough — I mean Ned ” 

“ Thank you,” put in Ned with a laugh, I can do 
my own dirty work, if you please. The fact is ” — he 
paused, still fighting shy of that dear name, “ I mean 
I’m afraid I can’t stop. If I had guessed, hut — ^but I 
didn ’t ! ” He shrugged his shouders. “ It is so hard to 
predicate perfection. The fact is, my cousin is living at 
Plas Afon for a fortnight or so, and I must go back to 
her — after tea.” 

‘ ‘ Plas Afon, ’ ’ she echoed eagerly. ‘ ‘ Oh ! I hear that 
is such a lovely place. How lucky you are,” then the 
personal aspect of the news made her frown a little. 
“ Dear me ! ” she said, ‘‘ what a pity ! It spoils so much. 
Now I shall have to differentiate between you two. Will 
you come in to tea. Lord Blackborough and Mr. Crut- 
tenden. ’ ’ 

They followed her meekly, feeling vaguely ashamed of 
themselves. 


CHAPTER XIII 


“ She is as straight as a yard o’ pump water, an’ won’t 
never brush forty again, ’ ’ said Martha up to her elbows 
in flour, austerely, “ but I wouldn’t trust her for that 
neither. No! Not with Bate cornin’ into his dinner 
wantin’ comfort. He have a trick o’ blushin’, Miss 
H’Aura, as sympathy might make a marryin’ on — an’ I 
won ’t have it in the ’ouse. ’ ’ 

“ But I thought,” said Aura gravely, for she was ac- 
customed by now to Martha’s view of the new parlour- 
maid, ‘ ‘ that Bate gave Parkinson no encouragement. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Encouragement, ’ ’ echoed Martha bitterly, ‘ ‘ no more 
he do. Why! he don’t even wink at her. Give her the 
cold shoulder constant; but there ! she’s o’ that sort. Miss 
H’Aura, as don’t mind whether a jint’s ’ot or cold so 
long as it’s man’s meat. Besides, master ’ud need a 
woman folk to stand atwixt him and the fun’ral if there 
was a smash in the motor, for Bate ain’t no manner of 
use when there’s tears about — ’es got such a feelin’ ’eart. 
So, thanking ’is lordship all the same for the kind 
thought, I’d better stop at ’ome.” 

There was never any questioning Martha ’s decision ; so 
Aura went back to the drawing-room doubtfully. It 
was a glorious day and Ned Blackborough had come over 
half-an-hour before, bearing both to herself and her 
grandfather notes of invitation from Mrs. Tressilian to 
come over to lunch and see the show place. The notes 
had evidently been all in order, for though her grand- 
father had declined brusquely for himself, he had looked 
at her as if he had just realised she was no longer a 
child, and asked her wistfully if she would like to go. 
And she without a thought had told the truth — namely 

146 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


147 


that she would love it. Then had come doubts. The 
last three days, filled up as they had been by the absolute 
adulation of the two young men had brought her a 
curious, innate, but till then dormant, sense that there 
were things which girls ought not to do. And having, 
much against her will, admitted this to herself, she be- 
came sternly scrupulous. 

Ought she, or ought she not to go alone with Lord 
Blackborough in the motor ? She knitted her brows over 
the problem, telling herself the while that she hated the 
world and every one in it. Then Lord Blackborough — he 
had an uncomfortable habit of reading her thoughts 
which she bitterly resented — had suggested Martha. 
And now Martha would not come. It was all such silly 
nonsense ! 

Ned Blackborough, watching her troubled face, felt 
that he could then and there have put his arms round 
her, kissed her even against her will and carried her 
right away from everything and everybody; from all 
conventionalities and princes and powers. She was a per- 
petual temptation to him to cast aside what few moor- 
ings he had. He was a man and she the one and only 
woman in the whole wide world ; and he wanted her. 

It was a headlong, purely emotional desire from which 
— curiously enough it struck him — passion was almost 
entirely absent. In a way, despite his greater reserve, 
there was more of passion in Ted’s rational, straight- 
forward, more normal love. 

The very emotionality of Ned’s feeling, however, car- 
ried with it content and certainty ; for he felt that noth- 
ing in heaven or earth could dim the halo of flame and 
fire in which he stood beside her. 

So he could afford to be magnanimous. ‘‘ Then you 
had better take the fourth seat, Ted ! ” he said carelessly, 
looking to where the latter, his hands in his pockets, was 
glooming out of the window at the motor which could 
just be seen waiting through the bare branches across 
the drawbridge. 

He had already had a casual invitation for himself 


148 


A SOVFHEIGN REMEDY 


and his cycle thrown at him, he felt, like a bone to a 
dog. But he had refused it. Pleasant work, indeed, 
riding in the dusty wake of a rival who was abducting 
the girl you loved at the rate of five-and-twenty miles an 
hour in a Panhard. 

Prom every point of view he had decided it would be 
wiser to stop at home, possess his soul in patience, and 
keep Aura’s grandfather in a good humour. For the 
more he saw of Aura the more he realised that her choice 
was likely to follow the lead of her environment. He 
was very clear-sighted, very much in earnest. The un- 
conventionality of the position irked him, and he heartily 
wished that he could quarrel with Ned, or even huff him 
— as people always did on these occasions. But that was 
out of the question; he was bound to be friendly and 
fight for the girl fairly. Yet, being what he was, a 
man with a natural gift for business, he could not help 
drawing up his prospectus, as it were, and counting up 
all his available assets. His love had nothing of Ned’s 
impetuosity about it, so with all his real passion for Aura 
he soon realised that it was wise not to show it too 
much. 

It frightened her. The brotherly tack ensured quicker 
confidence. And, of course, Sylvanus Smith’s liking for 
him was a great point in his favour. Regarding this, he 
did not feel in any way mean, for he himself liked the old 
fellow, and found his somewhat antiquated talk in- 
teresting. 

But this later offer of Ned’s was another thing; he 
looked round and accepted it heartily, feeling, however, 
as he often did when he looked at Ned’s face, a trifle of 
a sneak; for he was fighting impulse with strategy, and 
he felt convinced that he was right in doing so. 

He was, nevertheless, in danger of forgetting his role 
when Aura made her appearance dressed for her drive. 
She had a little conscious flush in her face, the result of 
having for the first time in her life tried on and rejected 
various articles of attire. So far as the dress and coat 
went, she had no choice. Her method of life made wash- 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


149 


ing dresses a necessity; and for winter white was the 
only colour which would survive Martha ’s vigorous wash- 
ing. So her serge, toned to a decided cream by those 
same efforts after cleanliness, was unalterable, and the 
furs she had found in the boxes of outworn apparel, 
which her grandfather had handed over to her on her 
sixteenth birthday, were also a permanent asset. She 
had no notion of their worth — she supposed they were 
sable; she knew that when the darker longer hairs blew 
aside the inner fluff was exactly the bronze hue of her 
hair. It was her head-covering which troubled her. She 
tried a scarlet Tam-o ’-Shanter but flung it aside. The 
contrast was too great. A white one followed suit. There 
was something wrong; she knew not what. Finally a 
bronze, brown-specked one made a faint curve come to 
her lips. It matched the fur, and somehow, her face. 
Then she lingered with a half-shamed look by the chest- 
of-drawers. Should she? Should she not? She might 
at any rate take something in case ; so she stuffed a long, 
fine lace scarf into her muff and ran hastily down- 
stairs. 

Her advent brought a sort of breathlessness to the 
two young men. Ned evaded it by saying prosaically, 
“ You’ll have to tie on your head with something, I 
expect. ’ ’ 

“ I have got something,” replied Aura superbly, and 
out came the lace scarf. It was bewildering. All the 
more so when Mr. Sylvanus Smith, looking at her with 
that same wistful affection, said half to himself, “ Your 
grandmother wore that, my dear, when she was married. ’ ’ 

But there was no time for sentimentalities. Here was 
a young girl, instinct with vitality to her very Anger tips, 
going out for her first ride on a motor, going out for her 
very first experience of the world. 

“ I have never been further than this before,” she 
said, heaving a great sigh of content, as the car, turn* 
ing almost at right angles, sped over a bridge and curved 
towards the further side of the estuary. “ Everything 
now is new ! Everything ! I ’ve never even seen the hills 


150 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


this shape before. And how strange our side of the val- 
ley looks. Who would believe that was Cwmfairnog? I 
don’t believe I belong to it a bit.” 

She pointed to a pale blue shadow among the shining 
hills showing where the little valley sank to restful, shel- 
tered peace. 

“I’m sure you don’t,” echoed Ned joyously. “ Only 
I don’t quite know where we belong to — unless it is 
everywhere. ’ ’ 

The “ we ” smote on Ted’s ears disagreeably as he 
leant over from the back between them, while the chauf- 
feur^ honest man, sat immovable in his corner as if he 
saw and heard nothing. 

“You belong to us at present,” he said laughing; “ so 
take care you don’t smash us up, Ned — we can’t afford 
to lose her. ’ ’ 

She laughed back at him carelessly. That was exactly 
what she felt. She was having a splendid time with both 
of them. 

It was a drive never to be forgotten. Down here by 
the sea the frost had slackened its hold, and in sheltered 
corners the grass was as green as at midsummer. A 
robin was singing its heart out on a bramble bough, 
where one pale flower showed rejoicing in the winter sun- 
shine. It looked colder in the sky than it was on earth, 
for overhead a great white cloud drifted like an ice- 
berg through a sea of palest blue — a frozen-looking, 
chilly blue. 

‘ ‘ Is that Plas Af on ? I ’m so sorry ! ’ ’ exclaimed Aura, 
as a swift turn in the road brought them to a sheltered 
bay almost land-locked by a rocky promontory covered 
with trees. It needed but one glance at these to show you 
that here was art, not nature. But it was art mimicking 
Nature in her kindest moods and bringing together from 
the four corners of the earth the glories of eastern and 
western forests, of the south and of the north. A few 
gold leaves still lingered on the Spanish chestnuts, the 
blue of the noble pine formed a background for the 
golden-barked willow, the silver cedar threw out its long 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 151 

arms across a scarlet oak, and almost to the water ’s edge 
grew rare conifers and blossoming shrubs. 

‘ ‘ I believe you are afraid ! I am, ’ ’ said Ned, steering 
for the portico. 

‘ ^ Who ’s afraid ? ’ ’ laughed Ted from the back seat, his 
eyes on the girl. “ Not you or I, ITl bet. We sit free 
of this sort of thing. Keep your responsibilities to your- 
self, Ned! 

Once more Aura looked back at him and smiled bril- 
liantly. She was not afraid, but she felt oppressed. Yet 
how lovely it was! A velvet lawn sloping away to the 
sea. Those unknown beautiful trees, each standing sen- 
tinel over a portion of God’s earth, and in the sheltered 
nooks groups of tall grasses and hardy palms. Not a 
dead leaf, every tuft of herbage in its right place. And 
the gravel! Aura had never dreamt of such gravel be- 
fore! Each pebble round-polished, glowing, half-trans- 
lucent in the sunshine, like an uncut gem. She felt she 
could scarcely dare to walk upon the pretty things. 

And it was a beautiful house too ; a real fairy palace. 
Yes! it was like a dream — a dream of great, of exceeding 
beauty. There was not a discordant note in it. The 
man of whom Ned had told her, who had built it, who 
had lavished a fortune on it, and had then died in far- 
away Italy, leaving it to fall into the hands of Phil- 
istines, must have had . What must he have had! 

Ah ! well, he must have been rather like Ned Blackbor- 
ough himself. For Plas Afon fitted Ned somehow in its 
fineness, its elusiveness. 

She turned her eyes to him, and fiushed ; for his were 
on hers, thinking how Plas Afon fitted her. And in 
truth it did; fitted her all the more for the flush, since 
she held her head higher, and followed him with a still 
lighter, freer step. 

“ I am so glad,” said Helen Tressilian coming forward. 
“ This is Miss Vyvyan; Aunt Em — ^this is Miss Aura 
Graham.” 

“ Delighted, I’m sure,” murmured a tall, stately, ab- 
solutely colourless lady, who was engaged in making la- 


152 


A SOVUBEIGN REMEDY 


borious needle-point on a tiny piece of black lining about 
two inches square. A tiny reel of almost invisible thread, 
a miniature pair of scissors, were also held in her left 
hand. They formed her only individuality ; for the rest 
she got up at the right time, ate her breakfast and made 
appropriate breakfast remarks, and so lived through her 
day doing as the rest of the world did. But these came 
down with her in the morning and went to bed with her 
at night, held always in her white be-ringed left hand. 
Perhaps she slept with them. Anyhow they were an inte- 
gral part of her waking life. If any one, thinking to be 
agreeable, asked her how she was getting on, she would 
smile gently, indulgently, and say that of course such 
work took time. 

Ned used to feel that it annihilated Time altogether, 
and could he have happened on it unprotected, would 
for a certainty have annihilated it. But it went with her 
everywhere — even in the motor. 

‘‘ Something quite terrible has happened, Ned,” went 
on Helen Tressilian — ^she had given one look at Aura 
and been satisfied — ‘ ‘ but it can ’t be helped. The Smith- 
Biggs have motored over from Aberaron — and — and — 
they have brought Mr. Hirsch. I sent Dr. Ramsay out 
with them to show them the garden, but — ^but they ’ll have 
to stop to lunch.” 

‘ ‘ They ’re welcome, ’ ’ retorted Ned with irritation ; ‘ ‘ I 
shall lunch in the garden when they’ve left it. We ” — 
he looked at Aura — “ only eat the fruits of the earth, 
you know.” 

‘‘ It was your cousin who asked me to lunch,” began 
Aura gravely, whereat Ned laughed. 

“You have an appalling sense of duty,” he replied. 
“ But I give in to it. Now, as I see Hirsch and Co. com- 
ing across the lawn, if we slip out by the back we shall 
escape them till lunch-time anyhow. ’ ’ 

Aura looked at him doubtfully. His responsibilities, 
which were beginning to weigh her down, seemed to af- 
fect him not at all. 

“ Are you going too, Mr. Cruttenden? ” asked Helen, 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


153 


noticing a certain hesitation on Ted’s part. In truth 
he was undecided. He wanted to see Mr. Hirsch, and, 
at the same time, he wished to be with Aura. Of course 
he could see his chief after lunch; but supposing they 
did not stop to lunch? 

So Ned Blackborough had the girl to himself. For a 
moment or two, as he led her round by the back way 
through thickets of rhododendrons, he felt triumphant, 
as a man does when he sees an opportunity before him. 
And then, then he forgot everything in pure delight at 
her eager face, in the joy of her enjoyment. 

“It is the most beautiful place in the world,” she 
cried at last, ‘ ‘ and this is the most beautiful thing in it. ’ ’ 

She was on her knees beside a tuft of red bronze Tyro- 
lean saxifrage, out of whose close carpet of velvet the tiny 
silver-green scimitars of the alata curved round 
guarding its broad, purple-blue blossoms. For they were 
in the winter-garden now. Not one of those crystal pal- 
aces of palms and hot-water pipes which answer to that 
name in the minds of so many. No! This was a real 
garden, in full air, but tucked away from every breeze 
that blows in a cove giving on the sea. Among the 
rocks above the small cleft of sandy beach on which the 
tide lapped lazily, grew all the kindly green things in- 
numerable which have learnt to do without the rest of 
winter sleep. The winding walks edged their narrow way 
through great tinted carpets of saxifrage and sedums, 
and many another sturdy-leaved coverer of bare earth. 
Bronze and sage and golden, brown and purple and grey, 
with a few blue blossoms on a creeping veronica, a few 
late primroses, a few early winter aconites. And through 
it, over all, was the fine scent of the winter heliotrope 
that clung to the crannies of the rocks or grew lush by 
the little stream, which, falling in tinkling cascades, slid 
along the sand into the sea. It was such a garden as 
every one with patience and care might have ; which none 
but the very few take the trouble to plant. There was 
nothing in it to tell of wealth save an old stone sphinx 
jutting out by the steps which led to the tiny wedge of 


154 


A JSOVEEFIGN REMEDY 


beach, its plinth forming a sort of jetty, beside which a 
boat lay moored. That had the measureless calm of 
Egypt in its eyes as it stood, backed by the changeful 
sky, the changeful sea. 

“ I believe it sees me,’’ added Aura, looking up from 
the broad open face of the flower, her own as open, as 
beautiful, ‘ ‘ and it has never seen me before. That makes 
me feel less strange, here where everything is new — and 
strange. It seems to me I have seen more to-day than in 
all my life before. It is so curious ’ ’ 

“ What? To see new things? ” he answered, smiling 
down at her. “ Isn’t that the only thing worth having 
in life — to be able to think when you wake, ‘ To-day some- 
thing may come to me which never came before ’ — to feel 
a sort of perpetual annunciation ” 

She stood up suddenly, measuring him with narrowed 
eyes. 

“ I do not understand,” she began. 

He shook his head. “ Oh yes, you do. I’m sure of 
it. Sit dowm on the plinth there and I’ll try and tell 
you what I mean.” 

So with the sphinx above her she sat and listened. It 
was not much he had to say. Only the half-whimsical 
half-serious thoughts of a man, who, almost without 
knowing it, had the seeing eye for the invisible, the hear- 
ing ear for the inarticulate, who felt, vaguely, that the 
best part of life lay beyond the boundary set to con- 
scious life by the majority of men. 

In formulated shape it was all new to her, but some- 
thing in her, she knew not what, found it familiar, ap- 
proved, and her face showed her approval, her interest. 

‘ ‘ I see, ’ ’ she said slowly, ‘ ‘ and the message is ‘ fear 
not. ’ I like that. ’ ’ 

“ Yes! ” he replied absently, clasping his hands over 
one knee and leaning back against the plinth to watch 
a cormorant that was coming back from Ashing beyond 
the bar, a solitary swift, black speck upon the blue. It 
would be good if one could get at it. We risk life every 
day for what we call love or money, but we are in a blue 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


155 


funk about the truth, because the truth is that neither 
love nor money — ^you know, don’t you, that I am awfully, 
hideously rich? ” 

‘ ‘ Ted told me you were the richest man in England. ’ ’ 

“ The devil he did! ” laughed Ned. “ I beg your 
pardon, but that wasn’t in the bond. Anyhow I’m be- 
ginning to feel as if I could with pleasure sell all that I 
have, and follow — something else.” 

“ But you have no right,” began Aura, “ you can’t 
shirk your responsibilities. ’ ’ 

Et tu, Brute,^^ he murmured pathetically, “ My 
dear creature ! You haven’t any idea how I loathe being 
rich. Money doesn’t buy what I like — freedom. No! 
confound it, it is always getting in the way. There ! ” he 
added resignedly as he rose, “ I told you so. There is 
that pampered, powdered beast of a footman whom I’m 
ruining body and soul by my ridiculous claims, coming 
to tell us lunch is ready. And — and we are enjoying our- 
selves. ’ ’ 

He looked at her as he held out his hand to help her 
to rise. She gave him hers frankly enough, but drew it 
away hastily as if something in the touch of his gave 
her offence, and a quick frown came to her face. 

“ That has nothing to do with it,” she replied aus- 
terely, ‘‘You have no right to keep your guests waiting.” 

“ If I had your sense of duty, I — I should kill that 
fellow,” he remarked coolly, as the footman, stopping 
short at a respectful distance among the saxifrages, said 
in the tone of voice in which a congregation echoes the 
responses in church. 

“ If you please, your lordship, luncheon is served.” 

Aura looked grave for an instant, then she laughed. 
She was never white sure whether to take Ned Black- 
borough aux grands serieux or not. She admired him, 
however, when, entering the dining-room, the glitter and 
clatter of silver, the chatter and laughter of the guests, 
and the consciousness that every one was looking at her 
to see who had made their host so late, gave her a desire 
to run away. He was so easy, so self-possessed, withal so 


156 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


clearly determined not to let any one interfere with his 
plan, which was apparently to sit beside her. 

“ I beg your pardon, Helen,” he said cheerfully, 
“ Miss Graham and I were in the winter garden. Will 
you sit here. Miss Graham. Ah! Lady Smith-Biggs, so 
glad you’ve come, and how is Sir Joseph? Don’t let me 
disturb you, Ramsay. You fill the place better than I 
should. Is there room for me by you. Aunt Em ? Hullo, 
where ’s Hirsch ? ’ ’ 

This, as he circled the table brought him to a vacant 
seat beside Aunt Em ; but also next to Aura to whom he 
said in an undertone, ‘ ‘ They ’ll hand you things you can 
eat.” 

The butler’s introduction of an elaborate silver dish 
with the mystic whisper, ‘ ‘ Brown bread and butter cut- 
lets,” emphasised the remark, and she helped herself 
decorously with a spoon and fork. 

” Mr. Hirsch and Mr. Cruttenden went off smoking 
somewhere,” replied Helen, “ Ah! here they come at 
last. ’ ’ 

“ My dear Mrs, Tressilian,” exploded Mr. Hirsch in 
his strident voice, “ I am overwhelmed, but when one 
gets to talking about money ” 

“ There is always the devil to pay, Hirsch,” put in 
Ned. 

“Ah! my dear Blackborough, wie gehts. What an 
entrancing place. Why don’t you buy it? ” 

“It is not for sale,” replied Ned, “ and it’s quite 
enough to hire it, I assure you, Hirsch. ’ ’ 

Mr. Hirsch laughed in his loud unfettered fashion. 

“ Ah! my dear Blackborough, you always pay too 
much for everything. You are the sellers ’ natural prey. ’ ’ 

Aura who had helped herself out of another silver 
dish to something which the butler called f raises a la 
creme en caisses, because it looked to her like strawber- 
ries and cream, gave a quick glance at Ned. 

Paid for; yes, of course, everything must have been 
paid for. In an instant all her pleasure became trans- 
muted to gold. The very strawberries — strawberries at 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


157 


Christmas ! What must they not have cost ? And they 
had been got for her. She felt, hotly, as if she were being 
bribed. 

“ If you will finish your lunch, came Ned’s voice in 
an undertone, we can start back as soon afterwards as 
you choose. Yes! Hirsch,” he added out loud, “ I know 
I ’m done all round. But it amuses people, and it doesn ’t 
hurt me. The only use of money is to get rid of it. ’ ’ 

I never, Mrs. Tressilian,” protested Lady Smith- 
Biggs plaintively, “ quite understand what your cousin 
means. ’ ’ 

“ I don’t wonder,” replied Helen soothingly, then 
smiled to herself, for, in truth, the lady in question sel- 
dom understood anything, but, being the wife of a con- 
servative manufacturer who stood for his native town, 
thought it her duty to take an interest in social and po- 
litical questions. “ Ned loves paradoxes, but he really 
hates being cheated as much as any one. ’ ’ 

“ I only meant. Lady Smith-Biggs,” put in Lord 
Blackborough, gravely, that I am quite willing to sub- 
scribe — as I am sure Sir Joseph does — to all the great 
truths which underlie our commercial prosperity. That 
is to say, first, that everything is worth what it will fetch, 
and a trifie more for underhand percentages. Secondly, 
that nothing can be called cheating in an open market. 
Thirdly, that truth is the affair of the purchaser, or 
his creator.” 

‘ ‘ Bah ! my dear Lord Blackborough, ’ ’ laughed Mr. 
Hirsch, “ you would have a world without money; it 
would be a pretty paradise.” 

But,” protested Lady Smith-Biggs again, her dia- 
mond ear-rings twinkling — they were so magnificent that 
they made one forget the redness and the fatness of the 
face against which they shone, “ I really do not under- 
stand. If you have no money, how can you pay your 
bills? ” 

“ I pay mine by cheque,” remarked Ned with a side- 
glance at Aura. After her sudden desire to escape which 
his aside had checked, she had become amused, then in- 


158 


A SOVEUFIGA^ REMEDY 


terested, by the conversation. And now his allusion made 
her flush up, then smile, for she was beginning to realise 
that this curious world, in which money played so impor- 
tant a part, was really the world in which she had always 
lived. She had not seen the token ; that was all. 

“ But, my dear Ned,” said Miss Vyvyan placidly, 
‘ ‘ you can ’t pay everything by cheque. The bank doesn ’t 
like cashing small sums. I know when I send for my 
thread to Honiton — I have to send there, you know, it is 
so fine,” she explained to Lady Smith-Biggs, laying her 
hand on the tiny black roll which, as usual, was beside 
her plate, ‘ ‘ I always have to send a postal order. ’ ^ 

“ Exactly so,” breathed Lady Smith-Briggs with a 
sigh of relief ; “ so you are wrong. Lord Blackborough. 
Why! even the very children have pennies. I used to 
think it rather dreadful their doing so much shopping 
for their mothers, but Sir Joseph says you cannot train 
them too early to understand the real value of money. 
And I am sure he is right, for it is quite impossible to 
live without it. ’ ’ 

“ That is a question which we ought to refer to Miss 
Graham,” remarked Ned Blackborough coolly, “I be- 
lieve she has never even seen a sixpence. ’ ’ 

If a bomb had fallen on the lunch-table it could not 
have produced a greater effect. Mr. Hirsch sat petrified, 
his fork halfway to his mouth. All eyes were turned on 
Aura, who bore the brunt with smiles, for there was 
something of pure mischief in her host’s face which was 
infectious. Even Ted, over the way, waited, amused. 

“ I believe she did, once, see a sovereign,” continued 
Ned. ‘ ‘ Perhaps she will tell you what she did with it. ’ ’ 

The girl’s face dimpled with laughter. “ I gave it 
to the cockatoo.” 

Dynamite could not possibly have been more discon- 
certing. 

‘ ‘ The cockatoo 1 ’ ’ echoed Mr. Hirsch automatically, 
as, becoming aware that the sole au vin hlanc on his fork 
was dripping on to his waistcoat, he dabbed blindly at 
the spot with his napkin. And — and may I ask, my 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


159 

dear young lady, what — what the cockatoo did with 
it? 

He wouldn’t eat it,” said Aura. 

‘ ‘ And so, ’ ’ interrupted Ted rather viciously, ‘ ‘ it was 
thrown into the stream. ’ ’ 

Aura turned swiftly on Ned. This was news. “ Did 
you? ” she began. 

“ So there it lies,” remarked Ned, ‘‘ as the beginning 
of a Welsh gold-mine. Make a prospectus out of that, 
Hirsch; it would be as true as most of them, I expect.” 

“ But I do not quite understand,” protested Lady 
Smith-Biggs once more, her pale blue eyes fixed vacantly 
on Aura. ‘ ‘ What ! you have never seen a sixpence — how 
— how dreadful! ” 

“ That is easily remedied,” remarked Peter Ramsay; 
‘ ‘ I believe I have so much in my pocket, anyhow. ’ ’ 

‘‘ Stay a bit, Ramsay,” said Lord Blackborough ; 
“ Miss Graham’s ignorance is not confined to sixpence. 
She is generally unacquainted with the coin of the 
realm. ’ ’ 

Mr. Hirsch ’s eyes were almost starting out of his head, 
partly in admiration of the girl whom he now discovered 
to be exceedingly beautiful. “ Gott in Himmel! ” he 
muttered, ‘‘ I believe I have half a crown an’ two 
shillings. ’ ’ 

Capital! ” cried Ned. Simmonds, take the plate 
round, and then bring it to Miss Graham. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Admirable ! Admirable ! Blackborough, mon cher I 
You have imagination! ” exploded Mr. Hirsch, fumbling 
excitedly in his pockets. “ What luck! I have a two- 
fiorin bit, and I swore at them when they gave it me! 
Ah! young lady! one does not often meet one so old — 
a thousand pardons, mademoiselle, but at your age one 
need not be so afraid. ’ ’ His good-natured face was brim- 
ful of kindliness and honest enjoyment, and Aura re- 
sponded to it. 

You needn’t be in the least afraid,” she smiled, I 
shall be twenty-one on New Year’s Day.” 

The information was welcome to at least two of the 


160 


A ^OYEREIQ^tH REMEDY 


party, and the others, carried away out of the conven- 
tional for the time, applauded the confidence. 

“ Soh! ” exclaimed Mr. Hirsch, who was now busy 
with coins and a silver salver, while the butler and two 
footmen stood behind him sniggering. “ Aha! young 
lady, you began a new era ; ah ! we must all send you a — 
what do you call etrennes in English to commemorate 
this extraordinary — Mein Gotti Has any one a three- 
penny bit ? ’ ^ 

So with much laughter. Lady Smith-Biggs absolutely 
contributing from a very small purse a whole five-shilling 
piece, a complete set of coins was handed to Aura. 

‘‘ With the company’s compliments, Miss,” said the 
butler. 

“ That ends your hours of innocence. Miss Graham,” 
remarked Ned Blackborough gravely, as the ladies left 
the room. 

It did not end Aura’s ordeal, however, for, once in 
the drawing-room. Lady Smith-Biggs begged to be intro- 
duced in form. 

‘ ‘ Oh 1 I am sorry, ’ ’ said Aura innocently, reaching up 
to the good lady’s outstretched waggling hand; “ but I 
always shake hands lower down. Is that the right way ? ’ ’ 

The question verged on the impossible, since Lady 
Smith-Biggs lived in the highest circles. But she ignored 
it, and all her good breeding did not prevent her descend- 
ing on the girl with a perfect cataract of questions. 
Where did she live, who was her father, had she any 
brothers or sisters? 

Aura began to grow restive. 

‘ ‘ No ! ’ ’ she replied shortly ; then fearing she had been 
too incisive, added, “ I have often wished I had. I 
should have liked them. ’ ’ 

Helen Tressilian coming to the rescue looked at her 
with soft approving eyes. They would have liked you, 
I’m sure. I expect you are very fond of children.” 

The girl turned to her impulsively. ‘‘ Yes — very! 
You don’t know how often I’ve wished that I had a 
baby. ’ ’ 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 101 

It was worse than the sixpence. Lady Smith-Biggs 
gasped. 

Her matronly breast heaved. She cast a nervous 
glance towards her daughter^ who was providentially oc- 
cupied in looking at Miss Vyvyan’s lace- work. 

“ My dear,” she said majestically, you haven’t a 
mother, so you’ll excuse me telling you that we don’t 
say that sort of thing in society. ’ ’ 

Aura blushed a furious red. 

‘ ‘ Why not ? ’ ’ she asked, and her voice had a militant 
ring in it. 

0 Ned, Ned! ” whispered Helen Tressilian to her 
cousin, as at that moment the gentleman entered the 
room, “ for Heaven’s sake take her away from us soon 
or she will be spoilt 1 ’ ’ 

He grasped the situation in a moment. ‘‘I’m afraid 
we must be starting. Miss Graham. We are going to row 
you across the estuary, and then we can walk home over 
the hills. You have never been in a boat, have you? ” 

“ No ! ” said poor Aura, suddenly feeling inclined to 
cry. It seemed to her as if she knew nothing and had 
seen nothing. 


CHAPTER XIV 


Peter Ramsay had come down to spend the Christmas 
holidays at Plas Afon in a very bad temper, both with 
himself and his world. 

He was perfectly aware that he had been over-hasty 
in his struggle with vested interests, but what irritated 
him most of all was the knowledge that he had, as it 
were, cut the ground from under his own feet, so that 
further fighting was impossible. He could, of course, 
go over to Vienna, and learn a great deal under Pagen- 
heim; but he would only have to come home again and 
begin where he had left off; which was silly — intensely 
silly! There are few things more annoying than the 
knowledge that you have given yourself away needlessly, 
and that a very slight application of a drag might have 
prevented the apple-cart from being overturned. The 
whole affair seemed now almost childish in its crudity. 
What the deuce did it matter whether a hogshead or a 
pint of beer were 'drunk, or if one patient the more died, 
instead of living to die in due time of something worse ! 

He was glooming out of the window over such thoughts 
as these when Helen, after seeing Lady Smith-Biggs start 
— despite her lunch — in a terrible fuss lest she should be 
too late for tea, came back to the drawing-room. Aunt 
Em, as always, had discreetly retired to her room, 
whether for work or sleep none knew, so they were alone. 
It was for the first time, and Helen seized her opportu- 
nity, for she had something she wished to say to him. So 
she crossed to where he stood, his thumbs in his waist- 
coat pockets. 

“ Ned tells me you have made up your mind to Vi- 
enna, ’ ’ she said kindly. There was a sort of forlornness 

162 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 163 

about this strong, capable man which always touched 
her. 

“ I have, Mrs. Tressilian,” he replied somewhat defi- 
antly. ‘ ‘ I shall go to Pagenheim, and find out — things. ^ * 
She smiled. “ And come back, I suppose, to give No. 
36 in the Queen ’s ward a chance of life ? ’ ’ 

“ If any one will provide me with a private hospital 
meanwhile, Mrs. Tressilian, ’ ’ he answered, ‘ ‘ for I don ^t 
see my way to it otherwise. ’ ^ 

She flushed a little eagerly, as if the conversation were 
taking the turn she had desired. 

‘ ‘ I am so glad you say that. Dr. Eamsay, ’ ’ she replied, 
“ for it helps me to say something. You know I have 
left the hospital — at least I am not going back. Now I 
have to live somewhere ; where matters little. And — de- 
spite what you thought once — I am quite a decent nurse ; 
a good one if — if I am keenly interested. If I were to 
take a small house outside Blackborough — or anywhere 
else — and — and make a regular surgical ward out of one 
room, would you — would you try that operation ? ’ ’ 

He stared at her. “ But why on earth ’’ he began. 

For many reasons! she interrupted hastily. 
Chiefly because I confess to feeling a responsibility.^’ 

‘ ‘ Or my lack of it !” he put in dryly. “I’m afraid 
not, Mrs. Tressilian; it would cost too much. To be 
frank — you haven’t the money, neither have I.” 

‘ ‘ Money ! ’ ’ she echoed, a trifle scornfully. “ Oh ! it 
isn ’t a question of money. Ned would find that. I have 
spoken to him, and he is quite ready to help. ’ ’ 

Peter Ramsay became very stiff. “ That is extremely 

kind of him, and it is extremely kind of you also ” 

I am only thinking of No. 36,” she interpolated 
warningly. 

“lam perfectly aware of that fact, ’ ’ he replied ; * ‘ but 
may I remind you of another — that No. 36 is only one 
out of, say, a million who are very possibly better dead 
and out of the way? My cutting him about might be a 
selfish pleasure ; my duty might be — euthanasia I ’ ’ 

She looked at him vexedly. “ I do not dictate to you 


164 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


a doctor ’s duty, ’ ’ she said with spirit, ‘ ‘ but I know that 
a nurse’s is ‘ to save life and defy death at all costs.’ 
Have I got that quite pat ? ’ ’ 

He smiled. “You have an excellent memory, Mrs. 
Tressilian,” he replied, “ and — and I am grateful for 
the suggestion, but it is quite out of the question. Per- 
haps when I return from Vienna I may be able to — 
to do my duty. At present I ought to be starting for 
my walk over the hills. Lord Blackborough has prom- 
ised to pick me up at Dinas — the motor is to meet him 
there — and as this is my last day ” 

“ Are you leaving us to-morrow? ” she asked quickly. 

For an instant he felt inclined to confess that he had 
had no previous intention of departing before the New 
Year, but he swallowed his vexation at his own hasty 
decision, and said rather lamely, ‘ ‘ I am afraid I must — 
I ought just to give a look round the London hospitals 
before I go abroad. ’ ’ 

“ I suppose it would be better,” she assented sarcas- 
tically. ‘ ‘ I have always understood that they are really 
not bad. ’ ’ 

“ Except for the beer,” he answered coolly, and left 
her. 

But though it was easy enough to dismiss Helen and 
her suggestions in this cavalier fashion, he could not dis- 
miss a feeling of irritation at her implied disapproval. 
The faintest hint of it always roused resentment in him 
and a desire to make that disapproval utterly unreason- 
able. So, as he breasted the hills, intending to walk over 
their summits, and when time was up drop down on Dinas 
and the motor, his thoughts were busy with the possibil- 
ity of fitting in No. 36 in the Queen’s ward with his 
plans for the future. 

There was always the hidden hundred pounds — if it 
still existed ! He had a great mind to see if it did, since 
he was so close to its hiding-place. 

Would he have time? He looked at his watch, and 
then gave a glance seaward. The estuary, now at flood 
tide, lay silver in the winter sunshine, and not more than 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


165 


halfway across it he could discern a slowly-moving black 
speck. The boat, of course. If that were so, he would 
have ample time, and for a smoke also. He sat down, 
and watched the small black speck, wondering what had 
delayed those three. It seemed to be going faster now ; 
but even so, there was time and to spare. An hour and a 
half at least ere they could possibly crest those further 
hills and drop down into the valley. And then — ^then, 
by the computation of experience, it would be at least 
an hour ere Ned Blackborough would tear himself away ! 

Peter Ramsay had rather a contempt for love. It was 
to him a physiological disease, the violence of which ar- 
gued a lack of self-control. And the beautiful girl who 
had never seen a sixpence, though very charming, ap- 
peared to him to be a most unsuitable wife for any man. 
For his idea of a wife was distinctly some one who could 
comfort and coddle, and — without open words — prevent 
one from making an ass of oneself. 

Yes! he had made an ass of himself; but, concerning 
No. 36, there was no reason why he should not take his 
own way. After all, there was nothing but life. The 
metaphysicians would put thought first, but it was 
“ Ergo sum, cogito,^^ not the converse — at any rate to 
common-sense. 

Nothing was susceptible to absolute proof except life 
and death, and they probably were mere conditions of 
matter. 

As he looked out, the light waves from the faintly de- 
clining sun were turning the invisible vapour about the 
higher hills into a filmy mist- veil which seemed to hang 
between him and the distant view. His eye seemed to 
detect in it a ceaseless shimmer, an almost imperceptible 
vibration. 

That was it, truly ! The motes in a sunbeam — even he 
himself for that matter — were but transient aggregations 
of the atoms in their unending dance of life and death. 
What would they hive into, like swarming bees ? A man 
or a mouse — who could tell ? Only the master of the cere- 
monies in this dance macabre. So the question of life 


166 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


or death was already settled for No. 36, though, so far 
as he — Peter Ramsay — was concerned, it depended on 
the existence or non-existence of that miserable pittance 
of a hundred pounds. But all the sanctions, all the men- 
tal and moral backings of humanity, depended on some- 
thing which could not be proved to exist. 

He rose with a shrug of the shoulders, put out his 
pipe, and started on again. Life or death seemed to him 
to hang on that hundred pounds. He did not much care 
which ; the odds were distinctly on death. 

As he turned ere dipping down into the valley which 
lay between him and the gap, he gave a last look at the 
silver shield of the estuary. The boat must have reached 
the shelter of the further shadow — unless it had gone 
down ! Life and Death — Death and Life ! An even bal- 
ance, despite the surgeon’s skill; despite even money. 

As a matter of fact, the boat had at last reached the 
opposite shore, and Ned Blackborough, feeling savage 
with himself and Fate, was standing by holding the rope 
taut, while Ted, visibly triumphant, was lifting Aura 
bodily from the boat across the intervening yards of 
slush and seaweed. 

He set her down gently with a frank That’s all 
right, ’ ’ and she, looking up at him, smiled her thanks. 

“ I’m so sorry you hurt your arm,” she said to Ned 
rather condescendingly. “It is lucky Ted could row 
so well, isn’t it? ” 

“ Very lucky,” replied Ned, feeling aggrieved. He 
had gone on pulling against that miscounted tide till he 
positively could no more, and even now the pain of his 
ill-mended arm made him feel almost sick. He had been 
forced to give in, and though Ted had been perfectly 
within his rights in failing to let Aura know that the dis- 
ability was — well! not absolutely blameworthy — he need 
not have sculled so confoundedly well. 

He had been a picture to look at, bending easily to 
the long stroke while Ned was idly steering. 

“ We had better take the Crudel valley,” said the lat- 
ter as a bye-path showed up a lonely glen ; “ it isn ’t half 


A SOYEREIGI^ REMEDY 107 

as pretty as this, but it is shorter, and we haven’t much 
time. I delayed you horribly.” 

Aura smiled tolerantly. “ But we came along splen- 
didly afterwards, didn’t we? ” 

‘‘You know this country awfully well,” remarked 
Ted, feeling the urgent need of generosity. “ I haven’t 
an idea where we are. ’ ’ 

But Ned was in no humour for patronage. 

“ I happen to hold the mineral rights of the Crudel 
valley in rather a queer, roundabout way,” he replied. 
“ They went with a property my uncle had bought in 
Shropshire — but that is beside the point. Naturally, 
with all the fuss there has been about the slate quarries 
lately, I have had to know something as to the lie of the 
land. When we first met, I was down to see it, so there 
is nothing wonderful in my knowledge. ’ ’ 

Ted stared at him. ‘ ‘ By George ! Then it is you who 
put a spoke in the wheel of that new company? ” 

Aura looked at him also, and with quick disapproval. 
“Is it you who have thrown all the people out of 
work? ” she asked. “ Do you know some of the chil- 
dren haven’t enough to eat, — at least,” she added, her 
look having brought her, she scarcely knew why, a vague 
doubt, ‘ ‘ Martha told me that the people were getting up 
a subscription for them.” 

Ned laughed derisively and shrugged his shoulders. 

“You won’t understand what I mean, but there is a 
general election due next year. The men have had other 
employment offered them ; if they won ’t accept it, that is 
their own fault.” 

“ But I don’t understand your objection ” began 

Ted. 

“ Don’t you? ” interrupted Lord Blackborough. “ I 
think that must be because you don’t know good slate 
from bad.” 

They had passed on by this time into that most deso- 
late of all places on God’s earth, a valley of unworked 
slate quarries, a valley desecrated by man’s needs, yet 
needed not by man. Seamed, scarred, riven until scarcely 


168 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


a blade of gracious grass remained on what had once been 
soft, sweet sheep-bite set with heather, shadowed by dense 
bracken thickets. Great moraines of debris, not rounded 
by long aeons of slow yet certain grinding in the mill of 
God, but fresh, crude, angled, from the hand of man, 
usurped the valley now on this side, now on that, turn- 
ing the very roadway, bordered by rusty rails, to their 
pleasure. A mountain stream, released from long slav- 
ery, sped — exultantly free — past the low congeries of 
dilferently pitched roofs supported by iron pilasters, be- 
neath which cogwheels and bands, levers and distributors 
stood unmovable, rusted into silence. Hanging halfway 
up a stiff incline of shale, an empty truck hung rusted 
to the rails. Another, full of split slate squared, holed, 
ready for homestead or granary, stood in the wide stack- 
ing-yard where thousands and thousands of these same 
leaves of slate, looking like huge books, were ranged in 
orderly piles. How many homes, how many churches, 
how many barns and factories might not have been roofed 
in by these piles waiting idly? 

For what? For money. 

Ned Blackborough stooped down and picked up a slate 
which had fallen on the truck-way. It snapped between 
his fingers, and with a laugh he flung it aside. 

‘ ‘ Bad stuff ! ” he said, ‘ ‘ and that is better than most. 
I tell you that this valley, which is a valley of desola- 
tion now, has been a valley of dishonesty from the very 
beginning. ’ ’ 

His eyes seemed to catch fire, and he turned to Ted 
almost threateningly, “ And you don’t understand! Will 
you understand, I wonder, when I tell you that these 
quarries, like many another, have been in the hands of 
speculators from the very beginning? Some one who 
knew the slate was bad took to himself others who knew 
it also, and between them they floated a company. When 
the money had gone, some other rascal bought the bank- 
rupt stock and started another company, and another, 
and another. And all the time, these workmen whom you 
commiserate were hewing and splitting and taking their 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


169 


wages, for what? For money, only for money! What 
was it to them that the slate was bad, that their labour 
was wasted and vain ? They got their money. And now 
they wonder because, when the lease of the last company 
was up, I stepped in and said ‘ No.’ This sham shan’t 
go on. I claim my right, and I won’t be bribed by any- 
body. ’ ’ He spoke almost passionately, then laughed, and, 
with a brief ‘ ‘ I beg your pardon ; these things irritate 
me,” struck up a shady footpath which led over the 
hill. 

‘ ‘ I don ’t exactly see how it could have been done, ’ ’ re- 
marked Ted argumentatively. ‘‘ If they went bankrupt 
they must have had a valuator, and then ’ ’ 

“ I ’ve no doubt they had, ’ ’ broke in Ned impatiently, 
“ but what I tell you is the long and short of it.” 

“ Besides, I don’t consider the workman is to be 
blamed at all,” argued Ted. “ So long as he does his 
work fairly and gets his pay for doing that work, no 
one has a right to find fault with him. Then think of 
the women and children. ’ ’ 

Aura, whose face had grown keen over the discussion, 
looked swiftly at Ned, awaiting his answer. He, in one 
of his worst moods, gave it unhesitatingly : ‘ ‘ My dear fel- 
low, what is the use of breeding up a race of thieves 
and swindlers ? ’ ’ 

With that he bent himself to take the hill at a gallop, 
leaving those two agreeing as to the women and children, 
agreeing also in a thousand superficial likings and dis- 
likings born of youth, high spirits, and no small lack of 
thought. 

But at a sharp turn amid the tumbled debris, they 
overtook Lord Blackborough opposed to a small boy 
seated disconsolately on the ground in a puddle of fresh 
milk, dotted with the remains of a broken jug, while 
an ill-looking collie dog yapped from the shelter of a 
more than usually large block of worthless slate. 

“ It wasn’t my fault,” explained Ned ruefully. 
“ That brute of a dog upset him, trying to bark and 
run away at the same time. ’ ’ 


170 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


The small boy, having now realised his misfortune, was 
blubbering in Welsh. 

“ I don’t understand what he is saying,” said Aura, 
looking up at Ted, after bending over the urchin with 
English consolation. “ Do you? ” 

He shook his head. ‘ ‘ That is the worst of wild Wales ; 
one can’t be compassionate.” 

Ned looked at them a trifle contemptuously. 

“ He’s afraid. A boy never blubbers like that with- 
out cause, and he isn ’t hurt. Here, you ! ” he continued, 
hauling the child up incontinently, “ don’t howl. I go 
with you home — catre — do you understand? — catre — 
mam. ’ ’ 

With which Welsh smattering, he dragged up the un- 
willing boy, still blubbering, towards a group of slate 
cottages which showed a few hundred yards away. Such 
desolate-looking cottages, only to be differentiated by 
their straight lines from the masses of debris about them. 

“You go on,” he called back. “ It’s straight over 
the brow of the hill, and then you can see. I ’ll pick you 
up in no time.” 

But when they looked back from the summit, there was 
no trace of him on the upward path. 

‘ ‘ There is no use waiting, ’ ’ said Ted oracularly. ‘ ‘ By 
George ! what a relief this is. ’ ’ 

He spoke in glad confidence as his eye travelled over 
God’s good world untouched, undefiled, and yet in his 
heart of hearts he would not have scrupled at any dese- 
cration of Nature, provided it were in pursuit of gold. 

Nevertheless, he responded at once to the fresh, bright 
breeze on the wide, undulating hill-tops, and the free, 
glad joy in life itself as life, came to him as they passed 
with springy step over grass-land and bog-land, all 
a-crackle with faint frost. What did they talk about? 
Not love, certainly — he was too wise for that — though 
love lay at the bottom of all his thoughts. 

“ How your hand trembles,” she said laughingly, as 
he held hers in crossing a brook. 

He flushed a little. “ We’ve been going such a rate,’^ 


A JSOVEREIGjV remedy 


171 


he replied. “ You’re the best walker I know, for a 
girl.” 

There was something in the qualification which set her 
at her ease. 

‘ ‘ I wonder what has become of Ned ? ’ ’ she said once, 
^ they finally turned into the home valley and saw be- 
neath them, spread out like a map, the familiar fields, 
the sloping lawn, the straight walks of the garden, the 
cosy, comfortable-looking chimneys all asmoke. 

Ted pointed to the sky-line above them, where for an 
instant a dark something, which might have been a sheep, 
and might have been a man, showed, then disappeared. 

“ Up in the clouds, as usual,” he laughed. ‘‘ Ned is 
an awfully good chap, but I wish he wasn’t quite so bal- 
loony. ’ ’ 

Aura looked at him distastefully. I like him best 
when he is in the clouds, ’ ’ she said firmly. ‘ ‘ Of course, ’ ’ 
here she became slightly refiective, ‘ ‘ I dare say his being 
so — so erratic, might put one out a good deal, and people 
like you would be more satisfactory to deal with; still — ” 
here she dimpled all over — ‘ ‘ come ! let us race down the 
hill, and then we can be waiting tea for him when he 
turns up.” 

But there was no tea ready when Ned, whose ill hu- 
mour had passed with his solitary walk, arrived. 

Thank Heaven! ” cried Ted, who met him at the 
door. “ Will you, like a good fellow, fetch the doctor; 
he lives beyond the hill 1 Mr. Smith is ill, as he was be- 
fore. You can take the motor, can’t you, from Dinas? ” 

' ‘ No need ; Ramsay will be there. I ’ll be back in no 
time,” was the reply. 

So while Ted helped Martha with his experience and 
comforted Aura as best he could, thereinafter remaining 
to give Peter Ramsay a hand in getting the old man to 
bed, Ned kicked his heels in the drawing-room. Sickness, 
with its possibility of death, always made him a little 
disdainful, and he had but a few stereotyped words of 
regret when, the crisis having passed, the three came in. 
Aura looking pale and troubled. 


172 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


“ Was he as ill before? ” she asked, her eyes seeking 
Ted’s almost reproachfully. 

Ted’s sought the doctor’s. “ Not quite,” replied the 
latter. “ These attacks — it is as well to be prepared for 
them. Miss Graham — ^tend to become more serious. He 
may not, I hope he will not, have another for a long 
time, but you must try and avoid any excitement. ’ ’ He 
held out his hand to say good-bye. ‘ ‘ There ’s no reason 
to be alarmed, I assure you ; with care, he may not have 
another for — for months.” 

He clasped the girl’s hand with strong, steady grip 
and smiled, but poor Aura, facing the one great reality 
for the first time, stood white and silent. Only when they 
had gone, she turned to Ted. 

‘ ‘ I don ’t know what I should have done without you, ’ ’ 
she said gratefully. 

Outside, as the motor disappeared in the darkness. Dr. 
Kamsay was saying nearly the same thing. 

“It is lucky Cruttenden was there and had an idea 
of what to do ; lucky too that I didn ’t give you up and 
go home.” 

“ Sorry,” responded Ned shortly. “ Hope you had a 
good walk. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Excellent, ’ ’ replied Peter Ramsay with a little laugh. 
“ I satisfied myself that hills and dales, and the round 
world generally, were mere manifestations of matter, and 
the Providence didn ’t shape my steps anyhow. ’ ’ 


CHAPTER XV 


Since the night on which poor Morris Pugh had sought 
in vain for God’s Providence upon the mountain-top, 
he had not left his room ; for rheumatic fever — that curse 
of Wales — had laid hold of him. 

The mental shock also militated against recovery. It 
would be almost impossible to overestimate what that 
shock had been, surcharged as he was by religious exal- 
tation. He had been dashed from high heaven to earth, 
and at first he lay stunned, absolutely maimed. Then, as 
feeling returned to his numb mind, the desire to slip 
away and so avoid the necessity for thought was the de- 
spair of his mother, who had come from the lonely hill- 
farm, where she still was mistress, to be his devoted nurse. 
She was a woman of the true saintly type, full to the 
brim of sympathies and sentimentalities; as such, not 
one to be burdened with the reality of doubt. 

By degrees, however, chaos became order. The fiat, 
‘ ‘ Let there be light, ’ ’ went forth, and Morris Pugh, en- 
thusiast by nature, began to creep towards it. What al- 
though the so-called miracles in which he and many 
others had believed were unreal, that could not be said 
of the effects of the revival. They were everywhere 
manifest, abundantly real. Thousands hitherto spirit- 
ually blind were now with open eyes following the 
straight and narrow way. Oh ! there was proof enough to 
show what Power was at work. As the Reverend Hwfa 
Williams had said (he found such small jests no incon- 
siderable aid in his rough and ready missioning), there 
was proof enough for every Thomas in Wales. 

And there was more work to be done ; so what mattered 
it whether he, Morris Pugh, the man to do it, rose or did 

173 


174 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


not rise to the height of sublime folly which had been his 
once? There was work to be done and he must do it. 
So on the last day of the old year, after a week’s change 
at Aberystwith, he returned, eager for the big revival 
meeting which was to see the New Year in. It was to be 
a great occasion, for Merv, Gwen, and Alicia Edwards 
were back for a Christmas holiday from their arduous 
labour abroad. Their presence in the little village must 
surely awaken the few sleepers that remained; these 
would be gathered in, their names added to the already 
long list of the elect. Even Myfanwy Jones who, as 
usual, had come down for a long week-end laden with 
bandboxes, might follow the example of her father and 
come into the ranks of the saved. 

That would be great gain, for though Myfanwy, being 
well-to-do, might dress as she pleased, the influence of 
that dress was not benign on poorer girls. And there 
were so many points besides drunkenness and open im- 
morality which the undoubted increase of faith did not 
seem to touch. David Morgan had sold his mare at Wrex- 
ham for five-and-twenty pounds. An open market truly, 
and it was a good-looking beast, for all that it had the 
staggers. Then the hole in the hedge, through which 
Evan Rees’ sheep were in the habit of pushing their 
way to graze on a water-meadow belonging to an ab- 
sentee proprietor, was still unmended. 

There were, in fact, many things which to Morris 
Pugh ’s sobered sight seemed ill advised, while some, such 
as the midnight meetings held by mere lads and lassies, 
could not be defended. 

All these things must be combated. But on this eve 
of a new step towards Eternity (that quaint Eternity 
which apparently has not yet begun for the religious) the 
work must be to rouse every dead soul to life. 

The chapel was packed from floor to ceiling. Taken 
simply as a sight, it was marvellous to think of the sor- 
did lives lived from year to year, begun, continued, and 
ended in the cult of the ultimate sixpence (by which 
alone the struggle for existence could be maintained) 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


175 


that many of those present were leading; here, before 
the Lord, they were at least seeking a higher sanction. 

And yet 

Morris Pugh’s whole heart and soul went out in one 
vivid prayer for true guidance. 

Gwen, on the platform, was looking dreadfully ill. 
She was wasted to a skeleton, her fever-bright eyes 
seemed larger than ever, but they were steadier, and her 
voice was even sweeter, despite the hollow hacking cough 
which assailed her at all times, save when she was singing. 

Those same eyes of hers had learned the trick of fasten- 
ing themselves on one face; but so had the eyes of all 
these practised missioners, and even Abel Parry, who 
was taking Hwfa Williams’ part as bass, looked out 
steadily, earnestly. 

Myfanwy Jones felt the thrill of this, though she was 
conscious that much of her physical sense of strain arose 
from the presence of Mervyn Pugh. 

How very handsome he was, and what a gentleman 
he looked after his three months of touring about the 
country ! 

In truth he had changed. He was finer, more complex ; 
for it had been impossible to lead the old simple village 
life in the hotels and boarding-houses where he had 
lodged. He was different in every way, and in becoming 
different he had almost forgotten his past self. Even 
the mental emotion of his first association with Gwen in 
this work of salvation had passed; he took it now as a 
matter of course. For the rest, seeing his way clear, and 
urged thereto by those who had heard him speak, he 
had almost made up his mind to the ministry. 

Yet not quite so; and the sight of Myfanwy Jones 
robed in black samite, mystic, wonderful, in the very first 
row, roused recollections, almost regrets. 

For there had been no harm in their holiday junket- 
ing at Blackborough ; they had only enjoyed themselves 
immensely. 

A sense of something electrical in the air disturbed him 
from recollections of a man in a music hall, who had ven- 


176 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


tured to comment on his companion's beauty, and he 
became conscious that Gwen and Alicia Edwards were 
both looking at him. There was a whole world of differ- 
ence in the meaning of these looks, but Mervyn lumped 
them together as a control to his wandering thoughts. 

He need not have felt that sudden sense of guilt so 
far as poor Gwen was concerned. Her limited mind 
had long since relegated the stormy past to the Devil. 
She shuddered at the thought of it, as she shuddered at 
the thought of Him. 

But Mervyn was a soul which, mysteriously, she had 
saved. 

In a measure this was true. All unknown to herself, 
she was largely responsible for the outburst of spiritual 
energy around her. There was that in her which, given 
freely as she gave it, without measure and without stint, 
was bound to force response. And to-night, wearied 
utterly, yet elated, singing against the doctor’s orders, 
racked by a terrible pain when she drew her breath, she 
was at the flood-tide of her potentiality ; and she knew it. 

Beside this — the joy and rapture of the stigmatic — 
Alicia Edwards’ jealousy of Myfanwy was trivial in- 
deed. But though much that was trivial lingered in 
the minds of many in the chapel, there was a deadly 
earnestness in most of the faces which looked up to the 
missioners, almost as they might have looked at a verita- 
ble transfiguration of their Lord. 

The toilworn, the smug, the rugged, the sensuous, the 
clever, on all these lay a supreme desire, yet a supreme 
content. Briefly, they had what they wanted, yet they 
wanted something more. What? 

An analysis of the minds of most would, no doubt, 
have yielded a large percentage of purely personal sense 
of salvation, but there was more than that in the whole 
atmosphere of the little chapel as IMorris Pugh stood up 
to give his first address since his vigil upon the moun- 
tain. What it was, who can say? Call it the Spirit of 
God, call it anything you please, all explanations resolve 
themselves into a still further away, ‘ ‘ What is it ? ” 


A SOYEREIGN REMEDY 


177 


Now, all those days and nights of mental and physical 
torture through which Morris Pugh had passed, had left 
their unfailing mark on him. Before he could even 
creep back into the old straight way, it had been neces- 
sary for him to acknowledge that he had been at fault 
in seeking to dictate to the Greater Wisdom, in looking 
for a sign, when no sign would be given. It had been a 
bitter struggle for him to lay down these, his highest 
hopes, but he had laid them down, and he stood before 
his people humbled, patient, almost wistful. 

But they were not attuned to this mood ; so as he spoke, 
the electricity — the something — in the air failed, and 
silence passed to faint shiftings, to louder shufflings. 
Practised speaker as he was, he realised at once that he 
was not, as usual, holding his audience. With an almost 
convulsive inward prayer for guidance, he modulated his 
voice into the bardic “ hwl,” that marvellous maker of 
emotion amongst the Welsh. 

A cough? Yes! a distinct cough! followed by another 
and another ! 

Mervyn looked anxiously at his brother. This would 
never do ! Experience told him that the unknown force 
on which the professional missioner relies was oozing 
away, so without more ado, he gave the signal to Gwen, 
and straightway a hymn, softly, persuasively, sung in 
the perfect harmony of four exquisite voices, arrested 
the wavering attention of the crowded chapel. 

Emotionally musical to the n’th degree, the audience 
needed no more. In an instant the atmosphere changed 
and, as Morris Pugh resumed his seat, the waves 
of sweet sound seemed to stun him with a sense of 
failure. 

Verse after verse, those waves grew to almost tumul- 
tuous chorus, seeming to monopolise with their vibra- 
tion even the small amount of stifling air left to each 
pair of human lungs. So through that human chorus, 
half-drowned by the glad summons to Eternity, came 
the passing of Time as the church clock struck — 

Twelve ! ! 


178 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


The sound stilled the singing for a second, and Mer- 
vyn, a genius in emotion, seized on the propitious mo- 
ment. 

‘ ‘ Let us pray ! ’ ’ he cried, falling on his knees, ‘ * let 
us pray for our brothers and sisters who are still in 
bondage! ’’ 

Without an instant’s hesitation the congregation of 
the elect followed suit, leaving the few standing, uncer- 
tain. Amongst them, Myfanwy Jones. Her face showed 
a sudden fear, not unmixed with resentment; but Mer- 
vyn had leapt from the platform and was beside her, 
his face brilliant, ere she could decide on either. 

‘ ‘ Do not go ! ” he whispered passionately. ‘ ‘ Listen I 
The door is open — we wait for you! we want you, My- 
fanwy! ” 

The girl turned to him. A faint tremor showed in her 
full, lithe figure; her lip trembled. Another moment 
and she would have given way, but that moment brought 
another factor to the equation of assent. 

“ Yes! We want you, Myfanwy! We wait for 
you! ” 

It was a girl’s voice, and Myfanwy fiashed round on 
it superbly self-possessed. “ Thank you much, Alicia 
Edwards, ’ ’ she said in clear tones, ‘ ‘ but there is no need 
for you to wait at all. I am going ! ’ ’ 

And go she did, with her head held high, a sphinx- 
like calm of malice in her face, the frou-frou of her silken 
skirts heard above the sudden silence which fell upon the 
chapel. 

It had needed but this example to make other hesitants 
follow. The congregation, taken aback, looked for guid- 
ance and got it from Gwen. 

‘ ‘ I will not let thee go ! ” she chanted in still clearer, 
higher tones as she threw out her hands to those retreat- 
ing souls. “ Yea, I will not let thee go, except thou bless 
me. Where thou goest I will go. Thy God shall be my 
God! Follow! Follow! ” 

The cry was caught up readily, as all her cries were, 
when as now, her nervous equilibrium was disturbed. So 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


179 


on the heels of the retreating few, the many swept out 
into the chill, frost-bound moonlit night. 

The utter peace of it, its cold indifference, disturbed 
by no questionings, struck like a knife to Morris Pugh’s 
heart as he followed also, uncertain whether to accom- 
pany his flock on their midnight visitations, or go home 
to pray in secret for the salvation of sinners. 

He chose the latter, and as he closed the door of his 
room the rousing chorus of a revival hymn echoed out 
under the stars of heaven, making him think sadly, how 
far away these were, for all their brightness. 

They seemed so also to Aura, who at that moment — 
looking as if she might have stood as illustration to Keats’ 
‘ ‘ St. Agnes ’ Eve ’ ’ — was standing at her window in the 
moonlight. Pour days had passed since her grand- 
father’s sudden fainting fit, and he was quite himself 
again. He had even been able to see Mr. Hirsch, who 
had called in his motor ; and Peter Ramsay, after delay- 
ing his departure a day or two, had left. There was 
nothing more to be feared for the present; and for the 
future, a peaceful, unemotional life was all that was re- 
quired. So well, in fact, was he that Ted had obeyed an 
urgent summons from Mr. Hirsch, and, much against his 
will on this last night of the Old Year, had gone over 
to him at Aberafon. It was a bore, he felt ; and yet the 
last few days of closer companionship with Aura, of her 
natural inevitable reliance on him, had made him leave 
her with a lighter heart. 

‘‘ You will be sure and come home to-morrow,” she 
had said, and the word “ home ” had brought a great 
tenderness in his reply, “ Of course, I shall be sure.” 

She felt glad of the assurance as she stood there look- 
ing out on the hill-side, where everything in the mid- 
night moonlight seemed as if carven out of stone; for 
her grandfather had been captious that evening, abso- 
lutely refusing to give up his annual habit of sitting 
up to see the New Year in. And he had been annoyed at 
Parkinson, the parlour-maid’s, failure to appear, when, 
as the clock struck twelve, the personnel of the establish- 


180 


A SOVEBEIGN EEMEDT 


ment were expected to wish and be wished long life and 
prosperity. 

“ Gone to a revival meeting,” he had echoed queru- 
lously, ‘‘ a singularly inadequate excuse! She might 
have read her Bible at home ; but I will speak to her to- 
morrow. ’ ’ 

To which Martha had replied austerely, “ It ain’t no 
good speaken’, sir; I’ve spoke till I’m dumb. And it 
ain ’t her Bible she ’s wantin ’, but ’er best ’at ; for she ’s 
that frivolous at forty in the dry, as beats me wot she 
must ’a bin’ in the green. An’ Bate ’ud a’ gone too — 
oh yes ! yer wu ’d Bate, so it ain ’t no good speakin ’ — only 
I told ’im plain. ' Bate,’ says I, ‘ you know as you’re 
a deal too light- ’earted to go cadgin’ about with a ’orse 
and cart when there’s liquor ’andy, an’ that ain’t in it 
for temptation with a midnight meetin’ with the likes o’ 
her for company, as makes me sick to cook for ’em. An ’ 
what is the shine in them hot stuffy revivals beats me. 
I wouldn’t go to one of ’em. No! Not if I was ’anged 
for it. I’d just say to the cart, Drive on ! ’ ” 

The dramatic finale had made Aura laugh. She smiled 
at the remembrance of it now; but then she smiled 
at the remembrance of many things in the last four 
days. 

How kind the world had been to her ! 

A faint clatter in the back premises made her smile 
again. Martha must be waiting up till the light had 
gone from her room in order to play that ridiculous game 
with stockings on which Ned had insisted on this New 
Year’s Day, which was her birthday also. 

Oh ! How kind they had all been. She could not spare 
one of them. 

She blew out the light, and the pulsing of the stars 
seemed to find an echo in the pulsing of her heart. Sud- 
denly she leant out to stretch her warm young hands into 
the frosty air, over the flower graves in the garden, over 
the whole wide glistening world. 

“A Happy New Year to you all, dear people,” she 
whispered. ‘‘ Such a Happy New Year! ” 


A /SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


181 


Five minutes after, having smiled drowsily at the 
sound of Martha’s stealthy footsteps outside her door, 
she wa^ asleep, to wake again, however, as the birds wake 
in winter, long before the lingering dawn. 

The moon was hanging like a silver shield before the 
window and sent a flood of light into the room, but far 
away in the east on the edge of the hill there was just that 
faint paling of the sky which tells that when the sun rises 
it will rise there. 

Dawn or no dawn she was broad awake, and the next 
instant stood by her open door. 

There was the stocking, crammed full, as Ned had 
threatened, with chocolate creams, and a pile of parcels 
on the floor. She picked them up, and putting them 
in the warm nest she had just left, began to undo them 
by the light of the moon. What had they given her, 
these kind people? 

A white chiffon motor veil ! That must be from Mrs. 
Tressilian, who had raised an outcry against a scarf of 
Mechlin being used to such shallow purpose. A silver 
ring tray, set round with every conceivable coin of the 
realm ! She did not need the card slipped into the red 
morocco case to tell her this was from Mr. Hirsch. A 
book — her heart gave an answering throb to the starshine 
— was from Ted. He had promised her a Shelley. And 
this, what was it? It must be the semi-surgical instru- 
ment for pruning roses, of which Dr. Ramsay had told 
her. 

And that was all, for neither Martha nor her grand- 
father would give in to stockings. 

Yes, it was all. Another half-ashamed feel over the 
darkling floor of the passage assured her of this, and she 
turned to the Shelley. Even if Ned had considered the 
chocolate creams sufficient, she had this. Now she could 
read the context to the lines which Ned — yes ! it was Ned 
— had quoted: 

* Time like a many-coloured glass 
Stains the white radiance of eternity.’ 


182 


A SOVEREIGN BEMED7 


It was lighter at the window, she passed to it, and lean- 
ing the heavy volume on the sill, knelt down to search 
for the ‘‘Adonais.” 

But she turned no pages. For there, outside on the 
window-ledge, broad-faced, clear, open-eyed, an iris alata 
stared up at her from its carpet of saxifrage. 

The most beautiful thing! ” 

Yes ! that was it — and he had given it to her . . . 

The poetry which another man had written slipped to 
the floor unheeded. She was absorbed in what this man 
had brought her. 

She knelt quite still for a time, her hands slightly 
clasped, feeling dazed at something in herself which re- 
sponded — ^which gave back — ^what? 

What was the over-mastering desire to crush the un- 
conscious flower to death with her kisses. 

She rose suddenly and began with haste to dress her- 
self. She must climb the mountain-tops, as she so often 
did in the dawn light, and And some answer. 

As she slipped silently through the house, she paused 
once or twice wondering if she heard something. No ! 
her granfather’s room was quite quiet; but once in the 
hall the sound became indubitable. 

Some one was singing outside. Singing softly it is 
true, but still singing. The village children, no doubt; 
but they must be stopped — they must not disturb her 
grandfather. 

The next instant she stood looking with amazed anger 
at a group of flve people who, kneeling on the ground, 
were singing under their breath some wild Welsh hymn 
which rose and fell plaintively, persistently. One of 
these figures she recognised. It was the parlour-maid, 
Parkinson; this must, therefore, be the tail-end of the 
revival meeting, for she had heard that such visitations 
were not uncommon. 

‘ ‘ Parkinson ! ’ ’ she called severely, her young blood in 
arms at the intrusion. What are you doing there? 
Get up at once and go into the house. 

Parkinson, whose prim face was blurred with tears. 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


183 


whose hat was awry, whose whole appearance betokened 
a stormy night of emotion, made a protest that this was 
an appointed time. 

“ Yes! ” retorted Aura, with a swift stamp of her 
foot, “ the appointed time for doing your work! Go! 
and clean the silver — it wants it — ^you foolish woman — 
go! 

The foolish woman rose and sneaked away, leaving 
Aura to face the remaining enthusiasts who had com- 
bined the seeing of the new convert home with the sing- 
ing of a hymn at this stronghold of the Devil. 

Until he felt Aura’s clear, eyes upon him, Mervyn 
Pugh had not remembered the possibility of recogni- 
tion. It may be, indeed, that he scarcely knew who the 
girl was whom he had once mistaken for Gwen. But 
now at her first glance he knew all too well. 

“ So it is you ! ’ ’ she said slowly, as he rose, and feel- 
ing that his best chance lay in boldness, faced her. 
‘ ‘ Why — why have you dared to come here ? ’ ’ 

“ To plead — to pray for you,” he began, but was 
stopped by the fire, the scorn of her. 

“ You dare to pray for me — you — ^you coward! Yes! 
I called it you once. I call you it again. Coward ! And 
you too, Gwen, ’ ’ she continued, for warned by something 
in the youthful accusing voice, Mervyn ’s fellow in the 
past had risen also, and with large fever-bright eyes was 
eagerly scanning their faces in the hope of understand- 
ing what her limited knowledge of English did not al- 
low her to follow. Then suddenly the sight of the poor 
wasted body, the recognition of the poor distraught soul, 
overbore Aura’s anger, and she stretched out her hands 
passionately, Oh, Gwen! Gwen, my dear,” she cried, 
“ Go home and forget all this. Go home and lay flowers 
on your dead child’s grave, and think of it and pray 
that he, its father, may be forgiven his cowardice.” 

A little startled cry came from Alicia Edwards. Abel 
Parry sang on ignorant of English. 

Gwen looked at Aura, then at Mervyn, giving to each 
the same slow patient smile of forgetful forgiveness. 


184 


A SOVEUBIGN REMEDY 


And then in that high piercingly sweet voice of hers, 
she began in its Welsh version the hymn which had her- 
alded her spiritual mission : 

‘ Just as I am, without one plea. 

Save that Thy blood was shed for me ’ 

She paused, arrested by a little soft cough. Then with 
a strange look in her wide wistful eyes she sank to her 
knees and stretched out her hands blindly, “ Merve — 

Merve-fach — Merve anwl y ” The rest was lost in 

the gurgle of the blood which poured from her mouth. 

Aura was beside her in a moment. “ Don’t raise her 
— her head on my knee so — Call Martha — you, man — 
don’t stand gaping — And you, woman, unfasten her 
dress — ^that is better.” 

It seemed an interminable time, though Martha was 
already up and dressed, ere Aura saw her running from 
the back; and all that time, the stain on Aura’s white 
dress grew larger and larger. 

“ Lord sakes,” muttered Martha. “A blood vessel! 
This comes of making free and she not fit — Parkinson ” 
— for the parlour-maid had followed — “ you run for 
your turpentine, without the bees ’-wax, there’s a dear — 
you sit as you he Miss H’Aura, and you there, what’s 
your name, them icicles. We must stop it — if we can.” 

There was an ominous ring in the last words, and it 
was not long ere Aura’s face blanched almost as white as 
the one upon her lap, as she realized that if the life blood 
was slacking, it was because the tide of life itself was 
ebbing. 

This was death. She had never stood close to it be- 
fore. Her young eyes looked fearfully through the hush 
of life to the unknown. 

So the minutes sped. Alicia Edwards gave a sigh of 
satisfaction, for the bleeding had ceased, but Aura, feel- 
ing the faint death tremor which re-unites the vibration 
of life to the vibration of the star-shine, looked up, her 
fear gone in grave wonder. 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


185 


‘ ‘ I think, ’ ’ she said softly, ‘ ‘ she is dead. ^ ^ 

‘‘ Go you into the house, my darlin^, an’ change that 
there poor dress. I’ll manage now,” choked Martha, ever 
ready with her tears. 

Aura looked down with a faint shiver at the crimson 
stain. So that was the end of love. 


CHAPTER XVI 


It was not more than six hours ago that Aura had looked 
at Ned's iris, had sat in the dawn with Gwen's head in 
her lap, yet it seemed to the girl who had never seen death 
before, who had never before realised what Love meant, 
as if whole aeons had passed over her head. In truth 
they had ; for Love and Death make up Life, since Birth 
comes to us without remembrance. 

The morning had passed by in dizzy haste. There 
had been much to do, and do quickly, so that her grand- 
father should not be disturbed by even knowing of the 
tragedy. This was the more easy of compass, seeing that 
since his last seizure he had not been coming downstairs 
till late. So, ere he appeared, there had been time for 
folk to come and go, time even for old Adam to rake over 
the gravel disturbed by so many feet. There was no 
trace, in fact, of what had happened when Aura passed 
by the spot on her way to the hills. Parkinson 's persist- 
ent hysterics had been the most troublesome factor in the 
problem of concealment, but Martha had at last, losing 
patience, locked her away in one of the cottage bedrooms, 
and left her there with the callous remark, ‘ ‘ She 'll come 
round by herself, and if she don't, 'oo cares? " 

Who, indeed, did care about anything? Martha and 
Adam went about their work as usual; her grandfather 
knew nothing ; even Ted was away. 

Aura felt terribly lonely for the first time in her life ; 
the more so because it seemed to her as if part of her 
very self had rebelled against that other self which, for 
one-and-twenty years, had lived such a frank, clear life. 
For all those years she had carried no burden ; but now 
Love and Death claimed to come with her. She could 

186 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


187 


not separate them even in her thoughts. One seemed to 
her destruction of the body, the other destruction of the 
mind. 

So when leisure became hers at last she took up the 
thread of life where it had been broken by the intrusion 
into it of Gwen’s death, and started to climb the hills, 
as she would have done at dawn. It was her natural 
instinct always. Other girls might shut themselves up 
in their rooms to think, might sit with their feet on 
the fender and dream. She had to go out, to feel the 
fresh breeze on her face, before her mind would work at 
all. 

As she sat on the rocky sheep shelter, whither her feet 
had taken her almost unconsciously, since it was her 
favourite outlook, the winter sun beat down on her 
fiercely, warming her through to the heart. She could 
feel her very veins pulsing ; their rhythm seemed almost 
to sing in her ears. 

How warm it was ! but in the shadows behind the big 
boulders — ay! and in the tiny shade of each blade of 
grass, each twig of bracken, the frost still lingered white, 
for the air was freeezing. 

Sunshine and frost ! Fire and ice I 

That was exactly what she felt like herself ! She was 
half fire, half ice; for a fierce virginity of mind fought 
desperately against the intrusion of that glad new im- 
pulse of self-surrender she had felt when she saw Ned’s 
iris. 

That, she supposed, was Love ; but what was that sort 
of love worth if it brought death with it to — to herself 
— to her mind? 

She felt indescribably smirched and stained. As she 
glanced at the fresh white serge skirt she was wearing 
she seemed to see on it still that crimson blood. It was 
horrible I It would be there always for her, scarlet as sin, 
no matter how white as wool it seemed to others. 

Poor Gwen ! That was the end of it all. She had, no 
doubt, yielded to Love. Had she had any terror of it 
at first? Had she also felt the degradation of it? 


188 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


So, as she sat, more dreaming than thinking, a voice 
called her. She started to her feet, remembering in a 
flash that other man’s voice which had called “ Gwen ” 
in that very place — the man whom she had called coward 
— whom she had smitten with the lily she held. 

It was not an opportune moment for Ned Blackbor- 
ough, who, having come over to Cwmfaernog with con- 
gratulations, had, after hearing from Martha of the trag- 
edy, followed the girl straight to her favourite outlook 
with the sort of instinctive knowledge of what she would 
do, which he had always seemed to possess. At the pres- 
ent moment this was in itself an offence to Aura. What 
right had he to pry into her mind 1 

“ What is wrong? ” he asked, checked in his quick 
sympathy by the expression on her face. Another of- 
fence, since what right had he to know anything was 
wrong. 

“ Nothing,” she answered curtly; only I came here 
for quiet and it seems as if I am not to have it ! ” 

He stared at her for a second; then, with a shrug of 
the shoulders, turned to go, thereby bringing to her a 
pang of remorse ; since when had he not been courteous, 
not been kind ? 

His quick return, therefore, and the reckless obstinacy 
which showed on his face relieved her. 

‘‘A cat may look at a king. Miss Graham,” he said 
coolly. “ I came to say I was sorry. I am. And as I 
fail to see that your birthday has any monopoly over 
New Year’s Day, I will wish you many happy returns of 
the latter. May your temper never grow worse.” 

She had to smile. The sudden outburst of truth was 
so like Ned when anything occurred to ruffle or disar- 
range the smooth covering of convention. 

‘ ‘ Thank you, ’ ’ she replied quite frankly, feeling curi- 
ously at her ease ; “ I did not mean to be rude, but 

“ I know,” he said simply, and paused. And she 
knew so well that he knew, that, though her lip quivered 
for a second she said no more. There was no need to 
say more. 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


189 


It was so curious to have him sitting there beside her. 
Now that he had come all the trouble had gone ; she was 
once more absolutely at her ease. 

And thanks also for the iris/' she said after a pause, 
feeling glad to escape from the tragedies of life. It 
is jolly; but I wish you hadn't dug the poor thing up." 

‘ ‘ I did not dig it up, ' ' he replied coolly. 

‘‘You didn’t — then how " 

“ I wired to Covent Garden for another, and it came 
down in charge of such a superior person that I almost 
had to ask him to dine ; so ‘ the most beautiful thing in 
the most beautiful place in the world ' remains beside 
the sphinx as " he paused. 

“ As what? " she asked. 

He had come half -prepared to speak of his love, and 
there was about her face to-day a curious half -forlorn 
puzzled look which made him feel inclined to take her 
in his arms and kiss it away — “ As a remembrance of 
you, naturally," he replied. 

She sat down on the nearest stone feeling just a little 
dizzy, and clasping her hands across her knees stared out 
at the pale blue misty valley, and the pale blue winter 
sky beyond. 

“ But why should you want something to remember 
me by? " she said slowly. “ I shall always remember 
you without anything. ' ' 

Her freedom from conventional cloakings in speech 
was at all times a trifle disconcerting, and he felt in- 
clined to reply “ That is very kind of you," or make 
some other banal remark of the sort which might bring 
convention back. Then he cursed himself for a low 
beast, and followed her unconsciousness as closely as he 
could. 

“ Perhaps I wanted to remember the exact words you 
said," he suggested. 

“ But you do remember them," she answered aggriev- 
edly; “ that is what I complain of. You remember 
every little thing I say — and it is most uncomfortable. 
I cannot think why you should. ’ ' 


190 


A SOVEEUIGN REMEDY 


He took his fate in his hand. ‘ ‘ Can ’t you — I can . 

It is because I happen to love you.^’ 

She sat still for a second, then turned and looked at 
him with narrowing eyes. “ I don’t see what that has 
to do with it ! You knew what I was thinking about the 
very first time we met, and you could not possibly have 
been in love with me then.” 

Her seriousness made him laugh outright. It was the 
most delicious piece of comedy to be sitting there talk- 
ing of his love as if it did not belong to him, while his 
pulses — stay! were they bounding, or had they quieted 
down to a curious content ? 

“ I am not so sure,” he replied gravely. “ There is 
such a thing, you are doubtless aware, as love at first 
sight. ’ ’ 

“ Not for sensible people, and I think we are sensible,” 
she argued grudgingly. “ I know, at any rate, that I 
was not in love with you for a long time afterwards. ’ ’ 

The whole world seemed to spin round with Ned. . . . 

‘ ‘ Then you are — oh ! my dear, my dear ! ” . . . 

‘ ‘ Please don ’t ! ” she cried, hastily drawing back from 
his outstretched hands ; ‘ ' I hate being touched. Besides 
that has nothing to do with what I want to find out. 
Why, from the very beginning, did you always under- 
stand ? That can have nothing to do with love . . . not, 
at least, with love like Gwen’s ” — the last sentence came 
thoughtfully in a lower key. 

But our love will be different, dear,” he said al- 
most solemnly. “ If you will marry me. Aura, I will 
try to understand to the very end — so help me God.” 

She smiled at him brilliantly. “ And you would — 
you couldn ’t help it 1 But that is no reason why we 
should marry. It seems to me we have mixed things up 
somehow. No ! that is no reason at all. ’ ’ 

“ Perhaps not,” he admitted, following her thought. 
“ Then marry me for some other reason, my dear.” 

She shook her head. “ There is only one reason for 
marriage, ’ ’ she said, with a wisdom born of the untram- 
melled teaching of Nature, ‘ ‘ and if I were to marry you 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


191 


— I should be afraid — yes, Ned ! I will tell you the truth 
because you are certain to understand — I should be 
afraid of loving you too much. I — I don’t want to love 
like that.” 

He sat bewildered, his passion dying at the hands of 
truth. Then he muttered, half to himself, feeling with 
a rush of shame how far he was from her, how little he 
really understood her innocence of evil, “ Heaven knows 

why you should — I am a miserable beast — ^but . Oh ! 

I hope to God you would, my dear — I hope to God you 
would! ” 

“ Why? ” she asked calmly, and he had no answer 
ready. So he harked back after a while to a lower level. 

“ That is the most original reason for refusing a man 
I ever heard,” he said whimsically. ‘‘ Have you any 
others of the same sort ? ’ ’ 

She responded instantly to his mood. ‘ ‘ Plenty 1 ’ ’ she 
replied cheerfully. “ To begin with, you are far too 
rich. I am only just beginning to realise how I should 
hate to have money — besides it is wrong, you know. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I don T know, ’ ’ he said dryly ; ‘ ‘ but it is quite easy 
to divest oneself of money. I never find the slightest 
difficulty in getting rid of it — so don’t let that stand in 
your way.” 

It was her turn to laugh — a soft, little laugh with a 
hint of reproof in it. 

I don’t expect you do. Ted is always saying you 
are reckless. Then there is grandfather; you know he 
doesn’t like you half so much as he likes Ted ” 

“ The deuce he doesn’t! ” assented Ned, his sudden 
pang of jealousy softened by his sense of the comic ; “ but 
you are surely not going to marry Ted in order to please 
your grandfather? ” 

She looked at him disapprovingly, ‘‘ I might marry 
some one worse ; Ted is a dear. ’ ’ 

He felt exasperated. ‘ ‘ Yes ! he is an uncommonly good 
fellow ; but — you don ’t happen to love him. And you do 
—at least I think you do he felt that certainty might 
overpower his self-control — ‘ ‘ love me. ’ ’ 


192 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


She took no notice of this, but went on argumenta- 
tively. 

“ Then I don’t think I like marriage in your rank of 
life. With a poor man, and lots of work and trouble 
and children, it would be very interesting ; but — look at 
Lady Smith-Biggs! I don’t know what Sir Joseph is 
like, of course, but she looks as if she led a dull life.” 

Very! ” assented Ned, back to smiles once more. 
“ But I wouldn’t, if I were you, take Lady Smith-Biggs’ 

as a test case; there are plenty of marriages ” he 

paused, feeling it would be difficult with Aura’s standard 
to adduce many examples; but then he was prepared 
to chuck everything, and go forth with sandal shoon 
into the wilderness if need be. Yes! she was right. It 
was hardly marriage that he wanted after all. 

So for a time they sat and looked out over the pale 
blue mists behind which the hills loomed large, seeming 
to lose themselves in the pale blue sky. 

There must be something better,” said the girl at 
last. “ Oh, Ned! there is something better! ” 

“ Better than love,” he echoed; “ perhaps than some 
loves ; not better than mine ! ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Don ’t people always say that ? Perhaps he said it to 
Gwen ” 

‘ ‘ Child ! ” he said swiftly, ‘ ‘ don ’t think of that — that 
was not love. ’ ’ 

“ And it was not marriage either,” she replied softly; 
“ but what you mean has nothing to do with what is 
called love, with what is called marriage — that is what 
I mean too.” 

He shook his head. ‘ ^ That is too fine for me. Aura ! I 
want you. I am not satisfied without you. ’ ’ 

He was so close to her that he could lay his hand on 
hers. 

“ S — sh! ” she said swiftly, laying her other hand 
on his so as to detain it. “ Listen! ” 

Just below them, in a sheltered corrie, grew a great 
holly-tree covered with berries that glowed scarlet 
against the distant blue. On its topmost twig, with flam- 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


193 


ing breast yellowed by the exceeding brilliance of those 
blood-red berries, a robin had settled itself to sing. And 
it sang. 

Of what ? Of the berries beneath its feet ? Of its dis- 
tant mate? Or out of the gladness of its heart of life 
because of the Beginning it did not remember, of the 
End it did not know ? 

Who can say ? but it sang. And as it sang those two sat 
hand in hand, forgetful even of what humanity calls love. 
Forgetful of all things except that they also were dream- 
ing the Dream of Life. 

‘‘ Did I not say so? ” she cried exultantly when the 
song had ceased. Did I not tell you there was some- 
thing better? You had forgotten me and I had for- 
gotten you, yet we were happy.’’ 

“ Because we were hand-clasped,” he answered 
swiftly, ‘ ‘ because I touched you, and you touched me. ’ ’ 

She drew her hands away and a flush came to her 
face. 

“ But don’t you feel afraid — as I do? Don’t you 
want to keep what you love apart — to keep it safe — even 
from yourself? ” 

Did he not? Was it not only this which kept him 
back from taking her in his arms and kissing her to the 
knowledge of what a man ’s love must be. 

‘‘ Yes! ” he said unsteadily, constrained to trath by 
hers. But there is a love which does not stain. I’ll 
give it you — if I can. ’ ’ 

She looked at him with a vain regret in her eyes. '‘You 
couldn’t if we were married, and I couldn’t anyhow. Ah 
no, Ned! It would spoil it all. ” 

" Spoil what? ” he asked roughly, for he began to feel 
himself worsted for the time. 

“ The something better,” she replied gaily, “ let us 
wait for that. I really don’t want to marry you, Ned. 
I should hate it. I knew that when I saw your iris.” 

“ Then I wish I hadn’t climbed up to put it on your 
window-sill and wricked my bad arm into the bargain,” 
he said sullenly. 


194 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


Her face grew grave. ‘ ‘ Did you climb up ; that was 
very wrong. ’ ’ 

“ Was it? ” he replied shrugging his shoulders; “ but 
I’m afraid I’m a very wrong person altogether. At the 
present moment I feel inclined to — to — but what is the 
use — ^you wouldn ’t understand. Aura ! for the last time, 
will you marry me ? ’ ’ 

“ No, Ned, I won’t.” 

Then that ends it,” he said recklessly. So good- 
bye.” 

She paled a little. 

‘ ‘ Must you go ? ” 

“ One of us must,” he replied, caught in fresh hope, 
‘‘ unless you change your mind.” 

“ That is impossible — but you will come back, won’t 
you? ” 

He looked at her full of impatience, yet full of tender- 
ness. 

“ I believe I ought to say that I won’t, but ” 

Then he held out his hand, “I understand — apart from 
everything else in the world — what this love of ours — ” 
her hand trembled in his for a second, ‘‘ means to us — 
both. I will go away for — yes! for two months, and 
give you time to think. Then I will come back. Good- 
bye, my dear. I can only say it once more — I love you. ’ ’ 

For an instant as he left her she stood still, her lip 
quivering; then she called to him: 

‘ ‘ Come back, please 1 I want to give you this. ’ ’ 

She held out the bunch of winter heliotrope which had 
been fastened in her coat ; its faint scent had been in the 
air as he had sat beside her holding her hand. 

It was too much ; the passion he had held back, not un- 
willingly for so long, mastered him. “ This is foolish- 
ness,” he cried, striding towards her, “ you do love me 
— why can you not say so — you might at least tell the 
truth. ’ ’ 

Something in her face arrested him. 

‘ ‘ The truth, ’ ’ she echoed, ‘ ‘ I have told you the truth. 
I think I do love you, and I am sorry, and vexed, and 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


195 


angry.’’ Her clear eyes were looking through his as if 
she could see into his innermost thought. “ But I will 
not marry you. I am afraid. Do you understand what 
that means to me ? I am afraid of myself, and for you, 
for you deserve something better. ’ ’ 

Suddenly she stooped, kissed the withering flowers she 
held, dropped them at his feet and was off like a mist 
wreath down the hill. 

He did not attempt to follow her. He simply sat down 
again on the stone where he had been sitting before, 
and swore to God that sooner or later he would marry 
her. 

And then he fell to thinking of how once or twice in 
his life before he had caught a glimpse, as he had just 
now caught one, of that “ something better,” beyond 
the Dream of Life. 

Once, when he was a boy watching the trail of silvery 
bubbles left behind it in the brown stream by a water- 
rat as it swam. Once again as a young man, when he 
had paid half a crown for a penny bunch of violets, and 
something in their sweetness had made him add half a 
sovereign to their price and go on his way. 

Then the present reasserted itself. He could not pos- 
sibly take this for his answer, he must wait till the shock 
of Gwen’s death had faded, until Aura became accus- 
tomed to the idea of her own love for him — for that she 
did love him he had little doubt. It was briefly her 
love which had frightened her, quaint compound as she 
was of nature and culture. He would leave her to think 
it out for two months. During that time he also would 
have time to make up his mind concerning many things. 
He was becoming dimly conscious that life was resolv- 
ing itself into the spending of money in order to escape 
from the responsibilities of having money, into the fight- 
ing of money by money. 

It would be rather interesting to let the fight go on 
while he raised no finger to protect his own personal 
rights; if indeed he had any, which he was beginning 
to doubt. He and Aura would be as happy — nay ! hap- 


196 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


pier without money. Yes! in the one thing worth hav- 
ing, the one thing without which even life itself was not 
worth having, money had no purchasing power whatever. 

“ I am only just beginning to realise how I should 
hate to be rich. ^ ’ 

Aura’s words came back to him. She need not fear. 
If she would only consent to marry him, he would chuck 
everything he possessed! — barring a modest competence 
of course! — after the sovereigns he had chucked that 
June morning into the little lochan at the gap. 

He had never thought of the hidden money since that 
day. It had gone clean out of his head. Now, as he 
stood up to try and locate the exact dip on the hills where 
it lay, his own words came back to him. 

‘ ‘ Neither I nor the world would suffer if I made ducks 
and drakes of these sovereign remedies.” 

He seemed to hear the soft whit whitter of the skim- 
ming gold and to see the blank look on the faces around 
him. 

There were other ways of getting rid of gold, however, 
than by chucking it into a pond. You had in this civ- 
ilised world but to let your neighbour know that you had 
it in your pocket, and it was sure to go. 

So, despite his refusal, with a light laugh he started 
down the hill. 


CHAPTER XVII 


Aura, however, felt bruised and broken, as with slower, 
heavier foot than usual she crossed the drawbridge, and 
choosing the back way, went through the cottage to the 
kitchen. 

Her first look at that sanctuary of shiny saucepans 
showed her that something in the nature of a domestic 
cataclysm had occurred during her absence; for the 
kitchen-table was littered with cake-tins, and the ma- 
terials for making cakes, a savoury smell telling of cakes 
rose from the oven, and Martha herself, with a hot 
flushed face, was beating viciously at the whites of eggs 
which were to go towards a further making of cakes. 
•Now such activity was Martha’s invariable method of 
showing that she had what she called “ a bit o’ time ” 
to herself ; therefore her invariable habit when she found 
herself once more monarch of all she surveyed and so 
presumably rather pressed for time. 

‘ ‘ Has Parkinson gone ? ’ ’ asked Aura swiftly. 

“Yes! Miss H’Aura,” replied Martha, pausing to 
make a dive into the oven and come up therefrom still 
more flushed and still more determined. “ She’s gone. 
Bad barm won’t never bake ’ouseholds as my mother 
used to say ; and glad was I to be rid of her, for I shud a ’ 
put her past afore long, yes! I shud, and a’ got ’ung 
for it I s’ppose — it ain’t any good lookin’ shocked. Miss 
H’Aura, for a body can’t ’elp her feelin’s, and put her 
past I shud, for Bate, he began to pity her shet up alone ! 
‘ If you says much more,’ says I, ' it’s to the pigstyes 
she’ll go ’ — an’ the only proper place for ’er. Miss 
H’Aura, and me havin’ to black my tongue tellin’ master 
it was the sow as was squealin ’ so ! But there ! Them as 
’as no ’eads takes it out in ’earts, and Bate is that soft 

197 


198 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


about wimmin, ’tis all I can do to keep from kneadin’ 
more flour to him as if he was a silly batch o ’ bread ! But 
we ’ll do all right without ’er caps an ’ aprons ; and so I 
told Bate.’^ 

Martha’s face, indeed, wore a determination which au- 
gured well for domestic comfort. 

“ But grandfather — ” began Aura anxiously, “ he 
ought not to be disturbed. ’ ’ 

“ Who’s a disturbing of the good gentleman? ” 
snapped Martha, ‘ ‘ Pore dear, ’e ’ll have ’is shavin ’ water 
’ot in future. How they can stand, brazen, an ’ ask wages 
beats me ! An ’ she talkin ’ o ’ the waste o ’ water being a 
crime against the company — a water company, winter 
time, in Wales ! Lord sakes ! — if she run the cold off, as I 
bid her do ; though ’er pantry tap was spoutin ’ into the 
pail a good ’arf hour while she was beguilin’ Bate. No ! 
Miss H ’Aura ! I wasn ’t goin ’ to lie for ’er more ’n I cud 
’elp, so I told master the stric’ truth-an ’-no-one-a-penny- 
the- worse, as the sayin’ is.” 

‘ ‘ What did you tell him ? ’ ’ asked Aura rather wearily, 
for even Martha was getting on her nerves. 

“ I told him as revivals havin’ bin too much for her 
body soul she was stoppin’ at the inn, where she is. 
Miss H’Aura, and if she screech there as she screeched 
here some one ’ll be in Bedlam before mornin’ — an’ so 1 
told Bate.” 

This was the invariable epilogue to all Martha’s 
diatribes. 

“ I suppose Mr. Cruttenden has returned? ” asked 
Aura. 

‘ ‘ As nice as nuts, an ’ is in with Master. I reely don ’t 
know, now I come to think on it, what we shud a-done 
this last week without ’im! Not but what ’is lord- 

ship ” she shot a quick glance at Aura — Lord 

sakes ! deary, ’ ’ she cried, ‘ ‘ you do look weary-like. Go 
up to your bed, there’s a duck, an’ have a lie down — . 
one can’t never forget the face o’ death till one’s asleep.” 


Death, and his brother sleep ! ’ . . . 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


199 


The words were in Aura’s brain as she went upstairs, 
wondering why it was that now Ned was no longer be- 
side her she felt far more disturbed, far more, in a way, 
ashamed about him, than she had done when he was be- 
side her. Yes ! even when he had been masterful and told 
her that it was all foolishness, that she knew she loved 
him. 

The house seemed so familiarly quiet and peaceful 
that the turmoil of her mind became all unreal to her. 
Surely the least honest effort must suffice to bring back 
her old fearlessness of outlook. 

Her birthday presents lay on the table, amongst them 
Ted’s Shelley, open, curiously enough, at the “ Adonais.” 
Her eye glanced at the verses, became fascinated; she 
stood reading until with a sigh of infinite satisfaction 
she closed the book over those words : 

‘ The One remains, the Many change and pass ! ’ 

That was beautiful. That calmed the soul. Gwen’s 
dead face came back to her now without any terror in it. 
The Sting of Death was gone. 

But Love — the love that Gwen had felt, of which she 
herself was not all unconscious, what of that? 

Dimly, darkly, as in a glass, the girl saw that to be 
noble it must be the antithesis of Death — it must be 
Birth. . But that was not the Love of the world. What 
had Mervyn, what had Gwen, thought of Birth? Noth- 
ing. If anything they had hoped to evade it. They had 
tried to take the Pleasure without incurring the Pain. 
They had not thought of anything but themselves. 

She passed on to the window-sill and looked down once 
more on the ‘ ‘ most beautiful thing in the most beautiful 
place in the world.” 

But what was that really ? 

Was it Love standing between Birth and Death, or was 
it something better? Something beyond both. Some- 
thing of which but a glimpse could be caught during that 
journey between the Cradle and the Grave? 


200 


A SOVBHEIGN EB3IEDY 


So, for one brief moment as she stood looking at the 
iris she saw that Something, beyond Birth, beyond Death, 
beyond even Love. A shimmer came to the air, her pulses 
caught the rhythm, and lo ! she was no more, the One was 
All, and from the uttermost end of Space came back the 
ceaseless Wave of Unity. 

And then ? . . . 

Then the fear of death re-asserted itself. Surely the 
flags of the iris showed limp ! The dear thing must not 
stop there without due foothold on the round world, 
else would it lose the immortality of new birth. 

So, tired as she was, she lifted it up, saxifrage and all, 
in both her hands, Avent downstairs, and so across the 
lawn to a place she wotted of where it might grow un- 
disturbed by fear of old Adam’s meddling fork. There 
was a certain solemnity about her necessarily slow move- 
ments, and she felt almost as if she were conducting a 
funeral. And so in truth it was ; a funeral of her careless 
girlhood. She was a woman now; she had begun to un- 
derstand herself. Yet as she laid the flower on the spot 
where she intended to plant it and went for her trowel, 
the pity of the funeral hit her hard, and when she re- 
turned Ned’s blue eyes seemed to look at her appealingly 
from the iris ’s broad face. His were such beautiful eyes ! 

She dug furiously, forgetful of everything but her de- 
sire to bury, until a step sounded beside her, and she 
looked up to see another pair of blue eyes broader, bolder, 
looking down at her. 

“ What are you digging,” said Ted with a ring of ag- 
grievedness in his voice ; ‘ ‘ a grave 1 Oh ! I beg your par- 
don, dear, I oughtn’t to have said that, I oughtn’t to have 
reminded you — but I ’ve been expecting you to return for 
such a long while — and — oh! my poor little girl — I ’m 
so sorry for it all — it must have been horrible. ’ ’ 

His normal sympathy brought her back to normal. She 
realised as she had not realised with Ned, that after all 
she was but a mere girl who needed cossetting and com- 
forting after the terrible shock of the morning. 

“ It was horrible,” she replied, with a little shiver; 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


201 


you can’t think how horrible — somehow, after it all, 
it is good to see you just — ^just yourself.” 

She felt indeed grateful to him for his size, his solid- 
ity, his undoubted affection: perhaps unconsciously she 
was grateful to him for his failure to disturb her in- 
most soul. 

“ It must have been awful,” he said, his blue eyes 
showing all the kindness in the world. “ I can’t think 
how you got through with it as you have ; but you are so 
brave — far braver than I should be — but come, don’t 
let us talk or think of it any more. Don ’t let us spoil my 
last afternoon. ’ ’ 

She stood up startled. “ Your last! ” she cried, in 
quick concern. ‘ ‘ Oh ! Ted, why is it your last ? ’ ’ 

He took a step nearer to her, his face lit up with con- 
tent. “ I ’m so glad you care — I suppose it ’s selfish — but 
I am glad. Yes! I have to go. Hirsch has business for 
me in Paris — most important business, and I must leave 
by the mail to-night. ’ ’ 

Even as he spoke, his mind running on ahead, thought 
with a different content of what this visit to Paris might 
mean to them both, if things turned out as he hoped they 
might. 

‘ ‘ Must you ? ’ ’ she echoed wistfully. It seemed to her 
as if every friend she had had was leaving ; and Ted had 
been such a help to her during the last few anxious days. 
“ How shall we manage without you? ” she went on 
doubtfully; “ grandfather will miss you so much — and 
I ” 

There were almost tears in her voice, and Ted felt a 
wild desire then and there to come to explanations. But 
he knew it was wiser to wait. 

‘ ‘ I will come back at once if I am wanted, ’ ’ he replied ; 
‘‘ but I hope I shan’t be wanted — at least not in any 
hurry; for of course I shall come back again soon — and 
then — but I really haven’t time now. I have to put up 
my things you see. I stayed as long as I could with him 

thinking you would be sure to come in at once ” 

there was the faintest reproach in his tone. 


202 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


An instant pang of remorse shot through the girl. She 
had stopped talking sentimental rubbish to Ned while he 
— Ted — was doing her duty. 

‘ ‘ I will go in to him in a moment, ’ ’ she said hurriedly, 
“ I have only to plant this flower.^’ 

She set to work hurriedly, Ted lingering to look down 
superciliously at the iris. 

“ It’s rather pretty,” he said; “ did you find it in 
the woods? ” 

Aura’s blush was hidden as she hastily filled in to 
proper dimensions the perfect grave she had previously 
dug. 

“ No. Ned gave it me as — as a New Year’s gift.” 

Ted half smiled, thinking that if he had had as much 
money as Lord Blackborough he would have known bet- 
ter how to spend it on the girl he loved ; but, of course, 
if Ned chose to be so niggardly in some things, so lavish 
in others, it was his own lookout. 

“ I hope you liked the book; the binding wasn’t quite 
so nice as I should have wished,” he began. 

Aura interrupted him heartily. 

“ I liked it ever so much — ^thanks so many! And I 
shall always like it. That is the best of books — summer 
and winter they are always the same ’ ’ — ^she became taken 
with her own thought and pursued it — ‘ ‘ they aren ’t like 
fiowers — you haven ’t to watch for their blooming time — 
you haven’t even to smell their scent — you haven’t to 
think for them of storms or slugs or frost and field mice ’ ’ 
— here she smiled at her own alliterations — “ but if you 
want them, there they are, ready to make you happy. Do 
you know, you’ve been a regular book to me lately, 
Ted? ” 

He flushed up with pleasure. “ Have I? ” he said 
frankly; “ that’s good hearing. I — I wish I were your 

whole library ” Once more he paused, obsessed by 

that idea of the night-mail to Paris. 

As he went olf to pack his things he almost wished that 
she had come in a little earlier; but then he would not 
have had such an eminently satisfactory talk with her 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


203 


grandfather. So far as he, at any rate, was concerned 
it was all plain sailing, for the old man, distressed at 
hearing of Ted’s sudden departure, had for the first time 
taken him into his confidence. It was not exactly a 
pleasing confidence, but it was only what Ted had ex- 
pected. Aura would be penniless, since years before 
Sylvanus Smith had sunk all his money in an annuity 
which would cease with his death. Under the circum- 
stances, Ted had felt that both the kindest and the wisest 
thing was to allay anxiety — that tardy anxiety which was 
in itself but another form of selfishness — by speaking of 
his own love for Aura, and his earnest desire to marry 
her, if she would have him. 

‘ ‘ Of course she will marry you ! ’ ’ Mr. Sylvanus Smith 
had said with calm shrewdness. “ Who else is there 
for her to marry % ’ ’ 

Whereupon Ted, divided as to whether he was doing 
a magnanimous or a mean thing, had suggested Lord 
Blackborough. It had produced a perfect storm of in- 
credulous irritation. The bare idea was absurd. Black- 
borough, like all in his rank, was merely amused by a 
pretty face. He, Sylvanus Smith, had only tolerated 
him as Ted ’s friend, and he would forbid him the house 
in future; no granddaughter of his should marry a 
lord! 

Briefiy, the old man whose life had been spent in 
preaching socialism and liberty in the abstract, who de- 
nied the existence of social rank, and proclaimed the 
right of the individual to independent action, was ready 
to forswear both tenets, and pose as a relentless parent 
of the good old type. 

Ted had forborne to smile, and, feeling really magnani- 
mous this time, had attempted to smooth over the old 
man ’s irritation, which none the less he knew to be points 
in his favour. 

So, as he packed his portmanteau, he whistled light- 
heartedly. 

Aura, meanwhile having finished her burial, went oif to 
the book-room where she found her grandfather, as usual. 


204 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


busy with pen and paper, the writing-table drawn up to 
the fire, the solitary extra chair in which Ted had been 
sitting looking lone and outcast, camped away in the 
open beyond the leather screen which in winter always 
surrounded Mr. Smith’s socialism and the fire. 

He was looking a little fiushed, and she paused, ere 
sitting down on the floor by the hearth to say anxiously, 
“You haven’t been vexing yourself, I hope, grandfather, 
while I was away — I — I had rather a headache — ^so I 
went up the hills. Martha ” 

“ Martha has been excellent, as usual,” he replied, 
“ on the whole she does Parkinson’s work fairly well; 

though I could wish ” here he sighed — “ the absence 

of a suitable cap and apron is certainly to be deplored, 
but she makes an excellent omelette. ’ ’ He turned again 
to his work of writing a pamphlet on the Simple Life. 

Aura sat watching him, as she had watched him as 
long as she could remember. She was very fond, very 
proud of him. Extremely well read, curiously quick in 
mind, he had taught her everything she knew, and she 
was but just beginning to find out that this everything 
was more than most women are supposed to know. She 
had found no difficulty in holding her own with Ned 
and Ted, and Dr. Ramsay and Mr. Hirsch, except so far 
as mere knowledge of the world went, and that was not 
worth counting. 

To her mind grandfather had had the best of any argu- 
ment she had ever heard ; but then Ned would never ar- 
gue with him. 

Still he had not taught her all things. He had never 
mentioned love or marriage, or birth or death, though 
these surely were the chief factors in life — in a woman’s 
life anyhow. 

Suddenly, out of the almost bewildering ramifications 
of her thought, she put, almost thoughtlessly, a question. 

“ Grandfather, was my father fond of me? ” 

Mr. Sylvanus Smith looked up startled, and distinctly 
pale. “ I had not the honour of your father’s acquaint- 
ance, ’ ’ he said icily, ‘ ‘ therefore I cannot say. ’ ’ Then he, 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


205 


as it were, pulled himself together, “ And you will 
oblige me,” he continued, ‘‘ by not asking any more 
questions of the sort. I cannot answer them. ’ ’ 

He went on writing, but his hand trembled a little. 
She had heard this formula more than once, but after a 
time, moved thereto by the new stress in her thoughts, 
the girl rose, and going up behind him stood looking over 
his shoulder. 

‘ ‘ Grandfather, ’ ’ she said, ‘ ‘ I am not going to ask any 
more questions about the past. I don’t see that it mat- 
ters at all. I should like to have known that my father 
was — was glad of me; my mother must have been, I 
think, though she died so soon. But I should like to know 
what is in the future. What — what do you expect me 
to do ? Do you wish me to marry ? ’ ’ 

He turned round in his chair, and looked at her help- 
lessly. 

“ That is rather a peculiar question, my dear,” he 
said feebly, but, of course ” 

“ Don’t answer it if it worries you, please,” she urged 
quickly; “ but if you could speak of it — it would be a 
great help. ’ ’ 

Vaguely she felt choky over the last words. It did 
seem so hard to be left all alone in the wide world to 
face these dark problems. 

“ It — it is not a usual subject for discussion, even be- 
tween parent and child, Aura,” he replied; “ but if you 
ask me — yes. I am extremely anxious for you to marry.” 

Why? ” The question came swiftly. 

Mr. Sylvanus Smith put down his pen finally, and 
turned his feet to the fire. He thought for a moment of 
quite a variety of reasons. Because it was the natural 
end of woman ; . . . but for years past he had laboured 
in vain to convince the world that marriage was slavery. 
Because he wished her to be happy? . . . but so many 
marriages were unhappy. Because he would have liked 
to see grandchildren about him? . . . but in his inner- 
most heart he knew that a few months of life was all for 
which he had any right to look. 


206 


A iSOVEFEIGN REMEDY 


He decided finally on the real reason. 

‘‘ Because — because when I die, my child, and that 
cannot be far off ’’ 

“ Grandfather, don’t! ” 

Her voice became poignant with fond reproof. 

He heaved a sigh, and honestly felt himself heroic. 

“ My dear,” he said grandly, ‘‘ there is no use in de- 
ceiving ourselves — I may live — but on the other hand,” 
he waved his pretty white hand gracefully. The conver- 
sation was beginning to interest him, and though he had 
acquiesced in Ted Cruttenden’s desire to let the question 
stand over for the present, he felt there could be no harm 
in diagnosing Aura’s attitude. “ The fact is, my dear, 
that when I die you will be very badly off, in fact, it is a 
source of the very greatest anxiety to me. Aura, you wdll 
have nothing — I mean no money — and unless you are 
married — happily married — I do not see how you can 
earn your own livelihood.” 

‘ ‘ Then I should earn it by being married ! ’ ’ she asked. 

“ Well 1 hardly so ; but — it would be a great weight off 
my mind. Aura. So — if you have the chance ” 

She stood still for a moment or two, then once more 
seating herself on the floor, this time at his feet, she 
turned her face to the fire. “ I have the chance,” she 
said at last in a clear voice, “ Lord Blackborough asked 

me to marry him to-day. I refused — but ” Her face 

was still hidden, but a curious expectancy came to her 
whole attitude. She seemed on the alert. 

Sylvanus Smith who had sat up prepared to curse, 
sank back in his chair to bless with a sigh of relief. 
“ You refused him! Thank God! My dear child, you — 
you caused me the most painful alarm; though I might 
have trusted your good sense to see that it would have 
been — a — a most unsuitable marriage.” 

The alertness had gone. ‘‘ Would it? ” she said in- 
differently, “Yes! I suppose it would.” She said no 
more, though all unconsciously the iron was entering her 
heart, the young glad animal heart which clamoured for 
pleasure. Still, what her grandfather had called her 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


207 


good sense had shown her this unsuitability at once, 
though his grounds for his opinion were most likely very 
different from hers. At the same time it was her de- 
cision. She had made it of her own free will. There was 
no coercion about it. She had made it, and it was as well 
that others endorsed her action. 

So she essayed a smile and turned towards him. 
‘ ‘ Then I don ’t think I have any other chance of getting 
married just at present, grandfather,” she said lightly, 

“ but if anybody ‘ comes along ’ ” She paused, 

joking on the subject being a trifle beyond her. 

The old man sat looking at her with real affection over- 
laid by the quaint sense of magnanimity which pursued 
him in every relation of life, the result no doubt of his 
unquestioning acceptance of himself as philanthropic 
benefactor to the race. Should he or should he not tell 
her what he had just heard from Ted ? 

Something in the slackness of her attitude as she sat 
crouched by the Are, something of weariness in the young 
face which, as a rule, was so buoyant with the joie de 
vivre, made him decide on telling her. There could be 
no harm in finding out how she was prepared to receive 
the suggestion. He drew his chair closer. 

“ But there you are mistaken surely. Has it never 
occurred to you that — that perhaps — Mr. Crutten- 
den ” 

‘ ‘ Ted ! ' ’ echoed Aura. ' ‘ No ! Grandfather, it is 
you who are mistaken. Ted and I have always been the 
best of friends— the very best of friends! but he has 
never — Oh! I can assure you he has never been the 
least — never the least like Ned — I mean Lord Black- 
borough.” 

“ Perhaps that stands to his credit,” remarked the old 
man chillily. “ Love is not shown — by — by love-making. 
But I am sure of what I say, my dear, because — Ted as 
you call him — though in my young days — but we will 
let that pass for the present — told me himself that the 
dearest wish of his heart ” 

At this moment the door opened and Ted himself. 


208 


A SOVEREIGN EE MEET 


light-hearted, free, eager to have what he could of Aura’s 
company, came in. 

“ I ’ve finished, ’ ’ he cried, ‘ ‘ so now for something bet- 
ter ” he paused, conscious that the air was full of 

something more important at any rate. Was it better, or 
was it worse? 

Mr. Sylvanus Smith essayed a discreet innocence by a 
warning cough to Aura, and a hasty return to his papers ; 
but the girl was too much in earnest for silence. Her 
nerves, overstrung by the strain' of the long day, during 
which almost everything to be learnt in life seemed to 
have been crowded into a few hours, vibrated to this new 
possibility. She rose instantly, and advancing a step or 
two stood facing the young man with a new recklessness 
in her expression. ‘ ‘ Ted, ’ ’ she said, and there was a note 
of appeal in her voice, “ Grandfather has been telling 
me something I can’t believe. Is it true that you also 
want to marry me ? ’ ’ 

For an instant surprised out of balance, overwhelmed 
by the utter unconventionality of the question the young 
man hesitated. Yes or no seemed to him equally out of 
keeping. Then his passion for her came to the rescue, 
and something told him that the question would never 
have been asked if the girl had not staked herself, body 
and soul, on the answer. 

He strode across the room and took her by her out- 
stretched hands. 

“ I have wanted it. Aura,” he said, and his voice vi- 
brated as the whole world seemed to him to be vibrating, 
“ ever since I saw you first — do you remember — ” he 
was drawing her closer to him unresisting, though in her 
eyes there was a certain expectant dread, “ you were 
standing — surely you remember — ” his voice grew softer 
— “ in the garden room — standing in the sunlight with 
the flowers behind you — and the cockatoo ” the sen- 

tence ended in the first kiss which had ever fallen on 
Aura’s lips. 

She did not shrink. On the contrary, she gave a little 
sigh of satisfaction, and looked gratefully at Ted. 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


209 


“ Yes, I remember,” she said softly, “ and ever since 
then you have been so good to me. ’ ’ 

Then you will marry me. Aura, ’ ’ he said — ‘ ‘ you will 
really marry me? ” 

“If it makes you happy — if you really mean it, 
and — ” she turned to her grandfather — “ does it make 
you happy too ? ’ ’ 

He was busy with his pocket handkerchief, and blew 
his nose ere he replied. “ My happiness is assured if — 
if you — ” He said no more, for his memory was clear, 
and there are some things which do not grow dim 
with years, and one of them is the remembrance of 
love. 

“ I am quite happy,” she said gravely, “ and I think 
I shall always be happy with Ted. ’ ’ 

Whereupon Ted kissed her again, and tried to realise 
that he was in the seventh heaven of delight; as he was 
indeed, though he felt rather rushed as he thought of the 
night mail to Paris. 

“We have hardly time to get engaged decently and 
in order,” he said joyfully. “ You will have to wait for 
your ring, my darling. ’ ’ 

“ My ring?” she echoed inquiringly, whereupon Ted 
laughed still more joyfully at her entrancing ignorance 
of the world and its ways ; but Sylvanus Smith, who had 
been looking into the fire, roused himself to touch a 
ring which he always wore on his little finger. “ I have 
one here,” he said dreamily; “ it holds her mother’s 
hair. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ My mother ’s ! ” cried Aura gladly, “ Oh ! may I 
have it, grandfather? ” 

Ted looked with distaste at the little mourning ring; 
just a plait of bronze brown hair like Aura’s set in a 
plain gold rim as a background to “ In Memoriam ” in 
black enamel letters. 

“It is rather grisly,” he whispered fondly as he 
slipped it on to the girl’s finger, “ but it will do to — to 
keep the place warm ! By and by it shall be diamonds.” 

She shook her head. “ I shall like this best,” she said, 


210 


A SOVEREIG'N REMEDY 


“ it will remind me of ” And then she lifted her 

finger to her lips and kissed the little ring. It would be 
hers always to remind her of Love and Death, and Birth 
that came between the two. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


Poor Gwen’s death had caused quite a pleasurable ex- 
citement in the village. 

There can be no question that to all save the immediate 
few whose natural emotions are involved, most deaths 
bring a quicker tide of life to the living. 

It has been said, indeed, that funerals are often the 
preludes to marriage. Be that as it may, Gwen, despite 
her gift of grace, had lived all her short life on such a 
different plane from the rest of the village girls that, 
except in the little shepherd’s cottage amid the hills, few 
real tears were shed over her dramatic death. 

And it was so dramatic ! To die in full song — ^to shed 
her life-blood in trying to bring the glad news to other 
souls. Surely that must avail! Surely that sacrifice 
must turn those sinful souls to peace. 

Though they did not know it, and for Mr. Sylvanus 
Smith’s prospect of peace, it was as well he did not, both 
Aura and her grandfather were special objects of inter- 
cession at many hundreds of chapels the very next Sun- 
day. For the story naturally grew in the telling. 

Meanwhile Gwen, poor soul, was laid with much 
fervour beside her baby, the rector duly officiating; for 
the old shepherd and his wife, thinking of their own 
funerals to come, held fast to tradition. Whatever else 
you might be in life, death brought you back to the 
Church, back to the solemn old service in which dust is 
reverently committed to dust, ashes to ashes. 

Nearly all the village attended, for, in a way, it was 
proud of Gwen. There was but one notable absence. 
Alicia Edwards was not there to take her part in singing 
“ Day of Wrath ” over her dead friend. She was in 
211 


212 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


bed or at any rate confined to her room ; for the dramatic 
death on New Year’s morning had apparently been too 
much for her nerves. 

The gossips of the village went in and out, condoling 
with her, and applauding her sensibility, and retailing 
to her all the alfecting particulars of the funeral, the 
wreaths, the remembrances from souls saved by the dead 
girl’s singing, the excellence of the mournings provided 
by Myfanwy Jones, and the apparently real grief of 
Mervyn Pugh, who went about looking like a lost soul 
himself. 

Only over the latter statement did Alicia Edwards 
commit herself so far as to say with sphinx-like grav- 
ity, “I do not wonder. Mervyn and Gwen were 
always friends. Yes, indeed! even at school they were 
friends. ’ ’ 

Looking back from her new knowledge concerning 
Gwen’s past, Alicia’s only wonder was, indeed, that no 
one had ever suspected Mervyn. And yet, who could 
suspect Mervyn? Mervyn, the pattern of the village; 
Mervyn, among whose perfections her own facile heart 
had been entangled these many years past. Nor was she 
alone. Half the village girls would have given their eyes 
to secure him for their own. 

And now that he had fallen from his high pedestal, it 
seemed to her, woman-like, that she desired him more 
than ever. That desire, in truth, was the cause of her 
seclusion. She was not ill — simply she could not make 
up her mind what to do. One-half of her asserted that 
she ought to denounce Mervyn ; that it was wrong for her 
to allow him thus to play the hypocrite, that it would be 
good for his soul ’s health to do penance in sackcloth and 
ashes; the other half found excuses for him beneath the 
cloak of consideration for the slur which would be cast 
by the unrighteous over the whole revival, could it be 
shown that one of the most prominent in starting it was 
— so to speak — an unrepentant castaway ; for repentance 
in such a case as this meant the confession for which the 
elders of the congregation had clamoured, the lack of 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


213 


which had sent an unbaptized child to the happily infinite 
mercy-seat of God. 

Alicia knew all this. She had been well brought up, 
well drilled by her father in the catechisms, and in her 
inmost soul — a very conventional, placid, harmless soul — 
she was quite shocked at Mervyn’s stony-heartedness. 
For all that, she could not make up her mind to de- 
nounce him. She would give him time. He knew that 
she knew his secret, and that she was the only person in 
the world now who knew it — at least of this world ; for 
the “ wild girl of Cwmfairnog,” as the village had 
dubbed Aura, had not even attended the inquest. 
Martha had given her evidence, and Martha had known 
nothing. So there was no likelihood of the truth coming 
out except through her, Alicia. Perhaps Mervyn, know- 
ing this, would come to her and unburden his soul. Un- 
doubtedly, if Providence had not intended her to de- 
nounce ths sinner — and of this, as the days went on, she 
became more and more certain — it must have had some 
other purpose in making her the sole recipient of the 
terrible knowdedge. 

What purpose? 

For to her, as to Morris Pugh, as to nearly all these 
traffickers in cheap marvels, the impulse to see some hid- 
den meaning, some direct dealing of the Creator with His 
creature man, had become almost an obsession. 

What purpose, then, could Providence have had in 
thus choosing Alicia Edwards out of all the village to be 
this sole recipient ? 

The answer was easy. That Mervyn might come to 
her as a sort of mediator, as he might have come to a 
father confessor. 

So, as the time wore on, Alicia waited for Mervyn ; but 
Mer\"yn never appeared, not even after she came down, 
becomingly dressed in deep mourning, to sit in the back 
parlour and receive her friends. Myfanwy Jones, whose 
holiday had been extended over the funeral by reason of 
the many orders she had successfully placed for it, looked 
in several times, but there was not much love lost between 


214 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


the two nowadays. So when, on the morning after the 
funeral, Myfanwy came to say good-bye, Alicia was 
relieved. She felt the influence of this big, beautiful, 
worldly creature to he malign ; and, once it was removed, 
she was sure that Mervyn would surely return to the 
holder of his secret. 

“ You will be going by the midday carrier,” said 
Alicia cheerfully; “ you will have a fine drive to Llanilo 
whatever. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ A beautiful drive, ’ ’ assented Myfanwy ; “ I was try- 
ing to make Mervyn Pugh take it with me for a change, 
but he prefers to mope. I did not know him such a 
friend of poor dead Gwen. ’ ’ 

She challenged Alicia with her bold black eyes, and 
Alicia felt herself flush. 

” When people spend their lives together in holy work, 
Myfanwy dear,” she replied in a purring voice, “it is 
very close they grow to each other, very close indeed. ’ ^ 
“If they spend their lives together anyway,” retorted 
Myfanwy with a superior laugh, “ they often grow very 
close — very close indeed — sometimes too close. ’ ’ 

But Alicia was prepared for her, and smiled sweetly. 
“ You do not understand religion, Myfanwy. As Mer- 
vyn says, it is such a pity — but we must hope for the 
best — it will come some day.” 

‘ ‘ So will Christmas, ’ ’ replied Myfanwy with a sphinx- 
like smile ; ‘ ‘ but I am not fond of waiting, whatever you 
may be. Well, good-bye, dear. Do not be frightened 
when Williams and Edwards send in their bill — it need 
not be paid till you are married, remember. ’ ’ 

Alicia paled. The memory of that bill was more to her 
now than the mere fact that when it came, it would mean 
a demand for money. That she might manage ; but how 
about the claim on her character ? For it would be a big 
bill, a record of much extravagance. One comfort was 
that, if she married Mervyn — which seemed not so un- 
likely now as it had seemed a short time ago — he would 
not be so terribly shocked; or at any rate he would not 
be in a position to throw so many stones ! 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


215 


It was a lovely afternoon, one of those early January 
days when earth and sea and sky combine to play a trick 
on the world, and cheat it into the belief that winter is 
over. The air, too, felt lighter, more wholesome to Alicia, 
now that Myfanwy Jones had presumably left the vil- 
lage ; presumably, because, though Alicia had not actually 
seen her go, her boxes had certainly been in the carrier’s 
cart. 

Alicia had almost made up her mind that if the moun- 
tain would not come to Mahomet, Mahomet must go to 
the mountain. Another Sunday must not pass without 
an explanation between her and Mervyn ; it would not be 
right to allow him to remain without reproof and exhor- 
tation. 

It required a good deal of courage, for she was by 
nature timid ; but by making a duty of it, and assuring 
herself that his soul’s good was her only object, she suc- 
ceeded in bracing herself up to sufficient virtue for her 
task. So, feeling there was no time like the present, she 
spent half an hour in making herself look as attractive 
as she could in her singing dress — and that had been 
designed with considerable care for appearances — and set 
off on her mission. She did not go straight to the min- 
ister’s house, which stood at the further end of the vil- 
lage — a most incongruous, unhappy-looking villa, such as 
one sees by dozens in the suburbs of any large town, all 
stucco, bow windows, and gable ends — for that might 
have provoked attention. She branched off to the left 
and so, going up the School Road, was prepared to make 
her visit on the return journey by going down a path- 
way which led from the school towards the house. She 
had often returned from class thus with Mervyn, choos- 
ing the longer road for the sake of the handsome boy’s 
company. The thought made her mind drift back to 
those long years during which she had been taught, and 
had taught, so many things. What a relief it had been 
to escape from living by rule; so much time for this, 
so much time for that; duty punctual as the clock, de- 
pendent on the machinery, certain to run down and 


216 


A 80YEREIGN REMEDY 


stop unless it received some continual impetus from 
without. 


— ‘ That which cometh from without.’ — 


The words came back to her va^ely. Yes ! she had been 
taught so many things. What had she herself learnt? 
How many four shillings’ worth of stamps, for instance, 
had she not saved up herself, or caused her pupils to save 
up. Every child in the village had a post-office savings’ 
bank book. They had been taught thrift. But every one 
of the girls would do as she had done — run into debt over 
their clothes — or at least put their money on their backs. 
She was tired of it all. She was hungering for her nat- 
ural work. She w^anted to be the wife of some strong 
man, bear him children, and live immersed in household 
details. That was her metier ; she felt drawn to that. 

So, as she turned in at the back entrance of the min- 
ister’s house, her heart was soft; she felt in a sentimental 
mood. The past was past. Most men’s lives held some- 
thing that was not quite — well, quite respectable — but 
in this case there would be earnest repentance to make 
that past more — more presentable. 

And then through the window of the dining-room she 
saw a group of two people standing, their faces to the 
fire, their backs towards her ; but there could be no doubt 
as to the skin-tight black sheen of the waist round which 
Mervyn’s arm circled in all the security of possession. 
It was Myf anwy ’s — Myf anwy in her best dress also ! 

In a second all the hot Cymric blood which lay hidden 
somewhere behind Alicia’s almost phlegmatic calm had 
leapt up in resentment; and almost before she realised 
what she was doing, she had passed the entrance and 
stood in the room, challenging those two. The table was 
laid for tea ; there was an air of placid comfort, of as it 
were collusion, which gave the finishing-touch to her 
anger. 

“ So you have not gone with the carrier, Myf anwy 
Jones? ” she said. 


A SOVEREim REMEDY 


217 


Mervyn’s arm left the black-satin waist hastily, but 
Myfanwy did not budge. She simply threw a backward 
glance over her shoulder. 

“Oh! good afternoon, Alicia! No! I did not go. 
Mervyn and I are to drive over to Llanilo in Thomas’s 
waggonette, as soon as we have had our tea. ’ ’ 

In an instant it resolved itself into a duel between these 
two women for the possession of the man who stood, his 
beauty somewhat blurred by anxiety, looking like a fool 
between them. 

“ But I have come,” replied Alicia firmly, “ to have 
a talk with Mervyn about — about something ; so, perhaps, 
you will drive alone to Llanilo, Myfanwy. It might be 
better.” She fixed Mervyn with an eye that held in it 
a world of entreaty besides some indignation. 

His inward uneasiness felt the threat. “ Perhaps it 
would be better, Myfanwy,” he said helplessly, “We 
have much to talk over and arrange before we start again 
on — on our work.” 

Myfanwy turned on him like a flash. “ Will you hold 
your tongue, Mervyn Pugh,” she said magnificently. 
“ This is between Alicia Edwards and me.” Then she 
turned back again to her adversary, “ Say what you 
will to him now, Alicia. We are engaged to be married, 
so you can say to me what you will say to him.” 

Alicia gave a little cry of real dismay. ‘ ‘ Oh Mervyn I 
Say it is not true;— think of poor silly Gwen, but just 
dead ! ” she pulled herself up, being in truth still but 
half-hearted in her desire to denounce. 

Myfanwy shot a swift glance at Mervyn ; she was really 
and honestly fond of him, and the idea, at any rate, 
which Alicia’s words suggested was not new to her. Still 
no matter what she said to him about it in the future, 
this was the time for defence— quick, ready defence. 

“ Yes ! ” she said. “ Gwen is dead, so why should you 
drag her out of the grave, poor soul ! ‘ Let the dead past 
bury its dead,’ Alicia, you learnt that in school, I am 
sure. And, whatever happens, I am going to marry Mer- 
vyn — of that you may be sure.” 


218 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


It was then that Alicia, feeling the inward certainty 
that this was true, that her bolt had failed of its mark, 
gave the rein to denunciation. 

‘ ‘ But I must speak to him ! Oh Mervyn ! Think, ’ ’ 
she cried, her voice ringing with a perfect medley of emo- 
tion, “ you who have saved so many, think of your own 
soul. Think how the soul of your child, think how the 
soul of poor Gwen cry out against you ! ’ ’ 

A man’s step on the gravel outside made Myfanwy 
start forward with a muffled exclamation. 

‘ ‘ Be quiet, will you ! you will be overheard — you — you 
will ruin him! Will you hold your tongue? ” she cried. 

But Alicia was past worldly wisdom; even with My- 
fanwy ’s strong hand threatening her, she stood her 
ground, and her voice rose — 

‘ ‘ Let them hear ! Let all the world know that Mervyn 
Pugh — Merv3m the good, the righteous, is Gwen’s se- 
ducer, the father of her child ! ’ ’ 

Then, even her anger failed before the knowledge that 
Morris Pugh stood at the door listening. 

With a muffled cry Mervyn turned and flung himself 
down on the sofa, his face crushed into the hard horse- 
hair cushions; vaguely he felt their hardness to be a 
shelter. 

Myfanwy, looking as if she could have killed Alicia, 
moved to him and laid her hand softly, protectingly on 
his shoulder. 

‘ ‘ Do not fret, Mervyn, ’ ’ she said coldly, ‘ ‘ it will soon 
be over.” 

So for a space there was silence. Then Morris Pugh 
braced himself to the task which was his, as pastor of 
these wandering sheep. 

“As you stand before your Maker, Alicia Edwards,” 
he said, bringing his hand down on the table to grip 
it with clenched nervous force, “ is this accusation 
true? ” 

Her answer was a sudden burst of tears, “ Don’t — 
don’t ask me,” she sobbed. 

“ Is it true? ” 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


219 

Ilis voice insistent, almost cold in its very insistence, 
would take no denial. 

“ Yes! ” The assent could scarcely be heard for the 
sobs. 

Morris Pugh gave a sigh. It was almost as if all that 
was human in him left his body with that long, laboured 
breath, for an instant afterwards he was the accuser, the 
judge. 

‘ ‘ And you — Mervyn Pugh — God forgive you for bear- 
ing my father’s honoured name — have done this wrong 
without repentance. You have stood by your child ’s grave 
and said never a word — never a word even to me, your 
spiritual guide, although I asked you, remember that ! 
I asked you; and you have stood before the Lord all 
these long months, eating at His Table, drinking of His 
Blood, with this sin lying unconfessed in your heart ! And 
you and the partner of your sin have stood together be- 
fore the Great White Throne, your voices mingling in 
God’s praise while your bodies ” 

Mervyn started to his feet. 

‘ ‘ Morris ! Morris ! before Heaven, that is not true — no 1 
I am not so bad as that I ’ ’ 

Checked in the full flow of his superhuman blame, the 
minister paused, and something of the man came back 
to him. 

“ I will say nothing of myself,” he went on, “ of — of 
the shame. But have you any excuse? Can you show 
just cause why I should not deal with you, alas! — a 
thousand times alas ! — my brother — as a minister of God 
must deal with the unrepentant sinner, with the hypo- 
crite, with the man who has defiled the innermost sanc- 
tuary of God’s temple? ” 

There was silence. Only round Myfanwy’s full lips 
showed a certain impatience, a weariness for this neces- 
sary fuss to subside, and leave room for common sense. 

“ So you have no excuse. Then prepare for the con- 
demnation of the congregation. Prepare to be humbled 
to the dust before the Lord. ’ ’ 

Myfanwy shifted impatiently. “ What good will that 


220 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


do? It will only humble the congregation,” came her 
clear, full voice; “ It will only be a paragraph in the 
papers. ’ ’ 

Morris Pugh winced. “ I thought of that before,” 
he muttered. ‘ ‘ God forgive me, I thought of it before — 
too much, perhaps. No ! ” he added firmly, ‘ ‘ the shame 
must be faced! Yes, Mervyn, it must be faced, even if 
our mother ” 

And then, with a cry, Morris Pugh himself was on his 
knees by the table, his hands clutching at its rim, his 
head between them sinking to the very dust. 

‘ ‘ Oh, God forgive him 1 Oh God, for my sake, for her 
sake, forgive him ! — for the sake of her many prayers and , 
tears, forgive him ! ’ ’ 

Mervyn stood pale as death. Alicia, her little part long 
since played, sobbed softly in a corner; only Myfanwy 
looked at them all three almost with distaste. 

‘‘ Mervyn is very sorry, I am sure of that — it could 
not have been worth all this — this fuss,” she said hard- 
ly; ‘ ‘ but why should shame be faced when — when every 
one is dead and buried? Mervyn can go away.” 

‘ ‘ The living and the dead are one, woman, in the sight 
of the Lord ! ’ ’ replied Morris, his righteous wrath re- 
aroused by her words. ‘ ‘ Mervyn may go if he likes, but I, 
his brother, will denounce him before the congregation.” i;. 

His lips, his hands, were trembling, but his voice was i 
firm. S 

Mervyn sat down on the sofa again and covered his i 
handsome face with his hands. His mind was in a whirl, | 
its chief thought being abject remorse for his brother’s I 
sake — for his mother’s. | 

“ It is best so, Myfanwy, ’ ’ he muttered hoarsely ; “ Go J 
— it — it is all I can do for — for them now.” J 

She took up her cloak and hat without a word. There $ 
was no use in trying to persuade people when they were 
so exalted. 4 

“Yes, I will go,” she said, “ but you are very silly, J 
Mervyn. Come, Alicia I You have done enough mischief 
for one day, I am sure.” b 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


221 


Alicia followed her meekly, feeling not in the least 
ashamed of the role she had played ; for these violent 
emotions were to her part of the religious stock-in-trade. 
By and by they would quiet down, Mervyn would make a 
noble confession, and eventually he would rise superior 
to all these troubles ; above all, rise superior to Myfanwy. 

The girls did not say one word to each other as they 
went back to the village together. Any one meeting them 
might have judged them the best of friends; only as 
Myfanwy branched off to the smith’s cottage she paused 
a moment to say with a smile — 

Some day I will pay you out for this, Alicia Ed- 
wards — so, mark my words, you will pay ! ’ ’ 

“ May you be forgiven, Myfanwy Jones,” retorted 
Alicia with spirit; “ I have hut done my duty.” 

Left alone by themselves the brothers reverted of neces- 
sity to more humble, more homely relations. The right- 
eous wrath gave place to real grief, the blank, hopeless 
remorse to real regret. 

By the time that the housekeeper came in to clear away 
the almost untouched tea, they had both accepted the 
position in so far as it could be accepted. There w^as 
nothing for it but to face this public confession, and by 
so doing make what reparation could be thus tardily 
made. Mervyn, indeed, was by far the more cheerful 
when the time came to say good-night. He had barely 
had time to think; the relief of having touched bottom, 
as it were, was great; he felt, in fact, as a repentant 
criminal might do on his last night on earth, as if the 
morrow which was to bring expiation must also bring 
pardon and peace. 

They had spent the evening together on the highest 
possible plane of religious exaltation, and it was Mervyn 
who gripped his brother’s hand and said “ Courage! ” 
out of the fulness of his emotion. His face looked al- 
most saintly as he said it. 

An hour later, indeed, when Morris — who had lingered 
near the dying fire, beset, now he was alone, by almost 
unbearable grief — looked in to see if his brother were 


222 


A 80YEREIGN REMEDY 


asleep, he found him lying like a child, smiling in his 
dreams. 

Morris gave a faint sob, and Mervyn stirred in his 
sleep. ‘‘ Mother,” he said hurriedly, softly — ‘‘ Mother, 
dear, dear mother — I must. ’ ’ 

Instinctively Morris blew out the light he held, lest it 
might wake the dreamer from his dream ; so in the moon- 
light he stood, torn asunder by love and grief, watching 
the dim peaceful form upon the bed. 

Suddenly he turned and, closing the door silently be- 
hind him, went downstairs once more. Outside the nar- 
row walls of the house, the moonlight slumbered peace- 
fully upon the everlasting hills. Surely somewhere 
beyond the narrow walls of this world’s judgment slept 
eternal Peace. 

An instant afterwards the front door closed softly, and 
Morris Pugh, leaving his brother asleep, had gone to find 
wisdom where he had often sought it of late in the 
temple not made with hands. 

It must have been an hour later that Mervyn woke, 
roused by a pebble at his window. He sat up with 
blurred consciousness, wondering vaguely what it was, 
until another pebble struck the pane, and a voice cried 
in a soft whisper, ‘‘ Mervyn! ” 

Myfanwy ! by all that was strange 1 Then in a second 
the whole memory of what had happened came back to 
him; but it came back to find him, as it were, a giant 
refreshed with sleep. None of us are really the same 
for two consecutive hours, and many a man will brave 
that in the morning, from which he would shrink at 
night. And there, as he peered through the curtain, was 
Myfanwy, sure enough, beckoning to him to come down. 
A sight sufficient to bring combativeness to any young 
blood, even without those two hours of blessed rest in 
sleep. 

“ Mervyn,” she said, when five minutes after, their 
lips met in a long kiss ; “ I have come for you. See how 
I love you, to do this thing which might ruin any poor 
girl’s reputation. You have done wrong, my poor boy, 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


223 


very wrong ; but so have many of the others who are so 
saintly. And why should you stay to be prayed over 
by them— by Alicia Edwards too! I will not have it! 
There will be no more me if you stop, Mervyn. Come 
now with me to Blackborough, the waggonette is waiting 
up the road at the bridge; we can catch the three o’clock 
mail at Llanilo. If you come, Mervyn, I will marry you 
in three days at the registrar’s office.” 

“ But,” he gasped, half-drunk with her kisses, half- 
stunned by his remembrances. 

She stamped her foot. “ You must decide. I cannot 
stop here all night, some one may come. Oh! Mervyn! 
Mervyn ! do you not feel that you were not made for 
this narrow life? You — ^you are no worse than others, 
and you have brains. You can make money if you will 
in the world, but not here. ’ ’ 

Those two hours of blessed sleep ! How they had ob- 
literated that stress of over- wrought emotion, and how 

his young blood leapt up in assent. But Morris 

Her instinct was keen — ‘‘And see you, Mervyn, it will 
be better for Morris, too! If you go, why should he 
speak? What is confession without a culprit? Come! 
you can write to him from Blackborough. Come — or 
there is no more me for you from to-night. ’ ’ 

When Morris Pugh returned from the temple that is 
made without hands an hour later, the house lay very 
still in the moonlight. He paused at his brother’s door 
to listen. There was no sound. So he passed on to his 
own room, took his father’s Bible, his mother’s picture, 
the few odd pounds he had in the house, and so passed 
downstairs again to the writing-table in the study, where 
he had thought out so many sermons, so many appeals 
to his wandering flock. But it was neither a sermon nor 
an appeal which he set down on paper and left lying 
where Mervyn would see it next morning. Rather was 
it a confession, for this is how it ran : — 

“ Wisdom has come to me among the eternal hills, 
brother. Go your way. Be one of the saints in light. I 
will go mine since I cannot stay and remain silent. May 


224 


A SOYEREION REMEDY 


God in His mercy preserve you always from the judg- 
ment of men, and give you His Grace/’ 

It lay there all night with the moonlight shining on it. 
Then the moonbeams faded and the greyness of the false 
dawn found it lying there still. 

But the breath of the real dawn winning its way 
through the door opened by the housekeeper who came 
to set the room in order, tilted it into the waste-paper 
basket, whence swiftly it made its way to the fire by the 
hands of tidiness. 

Thus Mervyn would have had no chance of seeing it, 
even if he had been there. 

But he was not. 


CHAPTER XIX 


Peter Ramsay put down the letter with a low whistle 
and stood staring at his half-packed portmanteau. Then 
he took up the letter again and re-read it. 

There was no doubt about it ! The governing body of 
St. Helena’s Hospital for Children offered him the ap- 
pointment of resident physician at a salary of £600 a 
year. 

But where the deuce was the hospital ? 

Egworth. That was one of the suburbs of Black- 
borough ; the most desirable suburb, for it stood on a hill, 
and so above the smoke-pall of the factory city. But he 
remembered no hospital there. Once upon a time some 
speculator had built a huge framework of a place that 
was to have been a hotel, or a hydropathic, or something 
of the sort, on the site of the old manor house at the very 
top of the rise. He remembered Phipp ’s Folly, as it was 
called, with its cold deserted look-out of roughly-glazed 
windows ; but of hospitals — nothing. 

It must be some small place. Yet still £600 a year was 
liberal. 

“ If you would prefer to see the hospital before mak- 
ing a decision the authorities will be happy to show you 
over, and I may mention that the governing body will 
be in committee on the 18th of this month, and could 
give you an interview. ’ ’ 

Thus wrote the secretary. 

The 18th? That was to-day. The letter had been 
delayed, partly because he had changed his lodgings, 
partly because he had run out of town from Saturday 
to Monday to see a friend before leaving for Vienna. Of 
course he could put off his journey for a day or two and 
still arrive easily before the date he had originally fixed. 

225 


226 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


On the other hand, as it was but a two hours’ run to 
Blackborough, why should he not go down by the 12 
o’clock luncheon train, and be back in time to start, if 
need be, by the Oriental express in the evening? No 
reason at all. He would do this, and he might find time, 
even if St. Helena’s proved to be a fraud, to look in at 
St. Peter’s into the bargain. 

“ St. Helena’s Hospital,” said the cabman at the sta- 
tion confidentially, that’ll be the no’o one as the Syn- 
dicate ’as bin makin ’ out o ’ Phipp ’s Folly. ’ ’ 

Out of Phipp ’s Folly ! So that was it ; quaint certain- 
ly. “I suppose so,” he replied; “ they must have been 
pretty nippy about it.” 

Cabby’s face fell. “ Nippy,” he echoed, “ Nippy 
ain’t in it. They’ve ’ad workmen over from the States 
and fitters from Germany, an’ a regular cordon round 
the place to prevent union men havin’ a look in. One 
thing is, it must have cost ’em a pot of money — but — 
but they done it! And they do say as it is fust class, 
and the old gardens a sight. So pop in, sir. I ’ll 
have you there in twenty minutes, if you ’ll give me three 
shillin ’. ” 

The three shillings were promised and Peter Ramsay 
spent those twenty minutes in pleasurable excitement. 
This was something out of the common. If it had been well 
done Phipp ’s Folly might be an ideal hospital, and there 
was something stimulating, something which stirred the 
imagination in this sudden development. Of course 
money could do everything, but how seldom money was 
spent in this way; for money in esse always had that 
postulate of more money in posse behind it. There was 
only one man he knew 

A quick wonder was checked by the SAvift turn of the 
cab through the wide open iron gates, while the new 
gravel of a broad semicircular sweep crisped under the 
wheels. But there was nothing to tell of recent work in 
the green lawns Avith their old spreading cedars, which 
lay between the tAvo gates. And the facade itself 1 What 
an enormous improvement those wide balconies were, and 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


227 


how useful they might be. The whole place had an air 
of having been in use for years, and as the cab stopped 
a hall porter in livery came alertly down the porch steps, 
followed by a hall boy. That was a trifle too much for 
a good thing ! No ! there w^as another cab driving in by 
the other gate which explained the boy. 

Peter Kamsay paused to give a general look round. 
Certainly so far as the outside went, nothing could be 
more perfect. What a splendid playground for the chil- 
dren the garden would be sloping away in varying de- 
grees of wildness to a real dingle at the further foot of 
the hill. And that glass palace attached to the left must 
be a winter garden. On this warm day the doors were 
open and Dr. Ramsay could see swings, see-saws, rocking- 
horses, tall flowering shrubs, and — yes! birds, actually 
birds feeding on the floor or flying about, apparently 
content. 

Close to the porch against the half-basement story, he 
could see through the glazed doors rows of perambula- 
tors, invalid carriages, and advancing to meet him with 
welcoming wave of the tail was a magniflcent Newfound- 
land dog, evidently intended to be an important factor 
in the establishment. 

There was imagination everywhere. 

“ Dr. Ramsay! ’’ came an astonished voice at his el- 
bow. He turned to see Mrs. Tresillian pausing in the 
very act of giving two shillings to her cabman. 

“ Mrs. Tresillian,” he echoed, “ how — how very ” 

She stepped forward and looked at him — he stepped 
forward and looked at her. Then with one voice they 
both said: 

Ned! I felt it was Ned! ” 

Helen Tresillian gave a sigh of relief. I have been 
wondering, ever since I got this,” she held out a letter, 
and Dr. Ramsay mechanically held out his also, “ who 
it could be who was offering me this place of matron, 
and now — dear me! How silly of me not to think of 
Ned before. But you see I have been away in Scotland — 
I only came back to-day — and I had not heard any Black- 


228 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


borough news since I was here before Christmas — so I 
could hardly guess, could I ? ” She cast a glance around 
her. ‘ ‘ But this is Ned, of course. It is like a fairy tale. 
Let us go in and see it. I expect it is — perfect. ’ ’ 

They went up the steps, solemnly followed by the New- 
foundland, the hall porter, and the hall boy ; but on the 
threshold Helen paused. 

‘ ‘ Isn ’t it like a fairy tale ^ ’ she repeated. ‘ ‘ ‘ And in 
an instant there appeared a most beautiful hospital all 
fitted with cots and medicine bottles and nurses ’ — Ah! 
here comes one of them. How quaint — but oh! how 
sensible ! ’ ’ 

It was rather a buxom little person who came out from 
a side-door. Something both in her fair smiling face and 
her dress recalled an old Dutch picture. Her neat white 
stockings and black rubber-soled, heelless shoes were well 
seen below a dark-blue cotton dress, full in the skirt, loose 
in the body, just fastened round the throat without any 
attempt at a collar, and ending short above the elbow. 
On her head, almost completely covering her smooth fair 
hair, she wore a white linen cap gathered in to tightness 
with a narrow tape tied at the back. 

Dr. Ramsay gave a big sigh. ‘ ‘ By George ! ” he mur- 
mured, “ that’s workmanlike if you like.” 

“ I was to give you these,” said the newcomer holding 
out two notes, one addressed to “ Peter Ramsay, Esq., 
M.D., F.R.C.S., Medical Officer (designate),” the other 
to “ Mrs. Tresillian, Matron (designate), St. Helena’s 
Hospital, Egworth.” 

“It is from Ned,” said Helen softly, handing him 
hers when she had read it. “I expect he has written you 
the same — I think he is certain to have written just the 
same. ’ ’ 

They were in fact the same, word for word, short, and 
very much to the point. 

“ Dear Ramsay (or Helen), — I have built this hos- 
pital for you and No. 36 in the Queen’s Ward. You will 
find him waiting for you in No. 7 overlooking the garden. 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


229 


He is at present sole occupant of the hospital. I hope 
you will accept the responsibility of killing or curing 
him. If you don’t I must find someone else as St. 
Helena’s Hospital — which by the way has a permanent 
endowment of £200,000 — cannot possibly remain without 
a doctor or a matron. So don’t say ‘ No,’ unless you 
really dislike the place. Yours, 

‘‘ Blackborough. ” 

The tears for some reason or other came into Helen’s 
eyes, and even Peter Ramsay winked. It was a fairy 
tale indeed. 

“ These are your rooms sir,” said the little Dutch 
nurse, ‘ ‘ The Governing body desire me to say they would 
be pleased to alter them in any reasonable way you 
might desire.” 

Peter Ramsay looked round the wide rooms whose 
walls were almost all cupboards, which was heated by a 
self-feeding stove, where the doors and drawers shut 
automatically, and the very wash-hand basin tilted itself 
empty, with a distinctly annoyed smile. ‘‘ I don’t be- 
lieve even I could be untidy in it,” he said grudgingly. 

But if you will excuse me, nurse — who are the Gov- 
erning Body? ” 

“Oh! there are several gentlemen, I believe; but I 
only know the one name — Lord Blackborough. I have 
not seen him. He is to be here to-day, however — it is 
their first Committee meeting, you know.” 

“ It — it was built by a Syndicate, wasn’t it? ” asked 
Helen. 

“ Yes; by a Syndicate. I don’t think Lord Black- 
borough had anything to do with it. These are your — 
that is, the matron’s rooms.” 

Helen gave a little cry. They were the replica of her 
rooms at the Keep, even to the row of flower-pots on 
the window-sills and the little niche for her prie-dieu 
chair. What a memory he had — and what an imag- 
ination ! 

“ They must have spent any amount of money over 


230 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


it,” continued the buxom little nurse, “ for everything 
is quite perfect — on a small scale of course — I mean in 
comparison with the London hospitals ; but none of them, 
so far as I know, is half so well equipped for children. 
It will be a pleasure to work here. ’ ’ 

She threw open the door of a ward and introduced 
Nurse Mary, an elderly woman also in the quaintly Dutch 
dress. 

‘ ‘ There are only four cots in each ward, ’ ’ said Sister 
Ann, “ and they have all a wide balcony on to which 
the cots can be wheeled, and every ward in this part 
of the house is practically self-supporting.” She threw 
open another side door in the landing. ‘ ‘ The bath-room 
and the nurses ’ room are over there and this is the pan- 
try. There is a lift from the kitchen.” 

Everything in truth was perfect, and Peter Ramsay 
gave a great sigh of content over the marble operating- 
room with its glass easing, its endless silver-plated taps, 
and tubes, and sprays, and levers. 

“ I believe,” he said suddenly, excitedly, “It is a 
replica of Pagenheim’s — yes! I am certain that is his 
new adjustor — ” He was deep in the mechanism in a 
moment. 

“ There were German or Austrian workmen at it, I 
know,” said Sister Ann beaming over with content, 
^ ‘ But it is absolutely complete, isn T it ? ” 

Truly it was complete in every detail. A very gem 
amongst hospitals, a very pearl of places where disease 
and death could be faced at close quarters. Yes! even 
to the little marble mortuary where carven biers stood 
waiting under the shadow of a great white cross. 

“ We must see number 36,” said Helen to Dr. Ramsay, 
“ It was built for him remember, as well as for us.” 

The plural pronoun gave Dr. Ramsay a little thrill 
which he shook olf impatiently. 

‘ ‘ That is the worst part of it, ’ ^ he said, ‘ ‘ I am by no 
means sure about No. 36.” 

But the first sight of the boy who was playing draughts 
with his nurse in a great wide play-room with a lift from 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


231 


it to tho wintGr-garden below, set him wondering if in 
very truth he could not set those crooked things straight. 

‘‘ The Secretary’s compliments, please,” said the hali 
porter when they found themselves back in the vestibule, 
‘‘ and the Governing Body will be glad to see you, when 
you are disengaged.” 

They looked at one another. They had lingered over 
1 their inspection ; it was already close on four o’clock, and 
if the Oriental mail had to be caught Peter Ramsay must 
leave at the half hour. 

: If? . . . 

It did not take him long to decide. He thought of 
the appeal in those words ‘‘Don’t say ‘No,’ unless you 
dislike the place.” He would not at any rate go to 
Vienna that night. 

“I am disengaged now,” he said, looking at Helen 
Tresillian, “ if you are.” 

j So they followed their guide down a passage to the 
right wing of the house where he knocked at a door la- 
I belled Secretary’s Office. A small man sadly hump- 
backed, but with a quick, intelligent face and a most de- 
I termined chin, rose as they entered and bowed, 
i “If you would kindly step within,” he said, opening 
an inner door, “ Dr. Ramsay and Mrs. Tresillian, sir.” 

I The door closed behind them and — and 

j Ned Blackborough jumped up from a comfortable 
I chair by the fire and came forward with outstretched 
I hands. 

I “ By George! I was nearly asleep. What a time 
you’ve been! I thought you must have gone away dis- 
gusted. ’ ’ 

“ My dear Ned! ” gasped Mrs. Tresillian, “ you don’t 
surely mean that you — ^you only — are the Governing 
Body ? ’ ’ 

“ If you will sit down and pour us out some tea,” he 
i said coolly, pointing to a little table laid out by the fire, 
j “I will tell you what I am — or rather what I am not — 

; for I have been most things this last month. I had no 
idea it would have been such a business. ’ ’ 


232 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


He might have said he had had no idea it would cost 
so much money, but he did not, for to him the only use 
of money was to spend it. So as they drank their tea, 
he told them how the idea had come to him before Christ- 
mas, when Helen had first told him of No. 36 and the dis- 
cussion concerning the pot of beer had begun. How he ■ 
had rushed everybody, bribing everybody to unheard-of 
haste. Just a month, he said, from start to finish; but 
he had had to get bricklayers, plasterers, painters over, , 
by wire, from the States, and buy all the fittings in Ger- . 
many. It was very unpatriotic, of course, but what could \ 
one do when the Trades ’ Unions would only allow a man _ j 
to lay one-half the number of bricks in a day that the 
Americans laid, and when English firms talked of Christ- ^ 
mas Day, Boxing Day and the general holiday disloca- ;; 
tion of trade? He never could have done it but for j 
Woods, the little dumpity who had introduced them. ^ 
The man was an old watchmaker who had lost employ- ^ 
ment through the Swiss competition, and who had had 
the pluck to spend his last pound or two in going over ; 
to Geneva to see how it was that the foreigner could 
work cheaper. He, Ned, had come across him in the 
park one night and had lent him — only lent him, of \ 
course, with no hope of ever seeing him or it again — a I 
sovereign! But the fellow had come back and had re- j 
paid the sovereign I He had written a pamphlet on his I 
views and sold it in the streets. So ? — so they had joined 1 
hands, being of the same way of thinking. 

‘‘ I was awfully afraid when we were down at Bias ; 
Af on, Helen, ’ ’ he said, ‘ ‘ that the thing would get blown 
upon; what with all the telegrams and the people who 
came to see me.” 

‘ ‘ But you told me, ’ ’ she replied reproachfully, ‘ ‘ that , 
it was mostly about that strike at the works. ^ ’ . 

“ So it was — partly, ' ’ he answered with a smile. Then 
he looked grave. ‘‘ I’ll tell you what, I’ve been busyi 
this last fortnight, and no mistake.” j 

“ With the strike,” she asked quickly. 

‘‘Yes! with the strike,” he answered after a pause. 


A SOTEREIGl^ REMEDY 


233 


I went into the whole thing from the beginning, and I 
found that those particular factories had been working 
at a loss for the last three years. I showed the accounts 
to the men, and pointed out that under the circumstances 
no master could be expected to accede to a demand for a 
rise in wages. They wouldn’t listen— I suppose, really, 
they couldn ’t listen, so I closed the works, gave them each 
a month’s pay in their pockets, and told them I hoped 
they’d find a better master. I couldn’t do anything else 
in common fairness. It comes to that in the end.” 

He walked to the window moodily and looked out, then 
turned to them with one of his sudden brilliant smiles. 

And you, good people ? , What have you decided ; 
but perhaps I had better give you a short outline of what 
St. Helena ’s Hospital is to be. ’ ’ 

‘‘ In the first place. Woods is to be the Secretary and 
Treasurer, and all that sort of thing, with a staff under 
him. There is to be no governing body, but the money 
will be vested in a trust, and the whole staff of the hos- 
pital shall form a general committee. This will ensure 
the appointment of really reliable persons all through. 
Sister Ann — ^you saw her — she has every diploma under 
the sun, and is as hard as nuts — is, for the present, head 
under you, Ramsay, of the nursing department. You are 
head, for the present, of the medical and surgical, with 
help as required, and Helen here is to boss the whole lot 
of you in housekeeping — it is really what you are cut 
out for, you know, Helen, though you did fuss over the 
chauffeur dinners. ’ ’ 

“ But I don’t quite see why,” began Peter Ramsay 
argumentatively, “ all this has to be done. If it was to 
provide me ” 

Ned Blackborough interrupted him. It was to sup- 
ply you — and the world,” he said almost sarcastically — 
with a place in which there were no vested interests. 
It was to provide you — and a few other working men 
and women — ^with a place here they could work without 
let or hindrance, where they were responsible for the 
whole show — yes ! even for those who were to come after 


234 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


them. Don’t bring in any one, Ramsay, because he is a 
brilliant operator; pay him, if you like, to come in and 
operate, but keep your staff good men and true, who will 
try to secure an apostolic succession of good men and 
true. Then — ^then no one will quarrel over a pint of 
beer ! Do you accept ? ” 

‘‘ I accepted from the very beginning, Ned,” said 
Helen quickly; “ the moment I saw the Newfoundland 
dog, I ” 

Ned laughed. “ I thought of bringing your father’s 
retriever; but he wasn’t warranted with children — so 
I got that bumbler.” 

Peter Ramsay was taking his turn at the window, look- 
ing out with eyes that had a blur in them. Suddenly he 
wheeled 

“Yes! I accept. Lord Blackborough, and — and may 
Heaven do so and to me and more also if ” 

He wrung Ned’s hand instead of finishing his sentence. 

Lord Blackborough threw himself into the armchair 
and stretched out his legs in relief. 

‘ ‘ Nunc dimittis, ’ ’ he said, ‘ ‘ and now for a few details. 
You won’t be able to start, of course, for some time. The 
place is fairly dry, having been roofed over, you re- 
member, but some of the partition work is a bit damp, 
though we’ve had it all dried as well as we could, and 
your rooms are dog dry. So is Number Seven ward. 
But for a while you will have to go slow. Sister Ann, 
Woods, and the housekeeper — I hope you will like her, 
Helen ; if you don ’t give her the sack, for she will have 
her vote in the housekeeping committee, though of course 
the under servants won’t — or, at any rate, only on cer- 
tain points. You will find Woods has it all worked out, 
however, he has a head like an American roll-top desk. 
Well! those three can manage, so if you want any spe- 
cial fit-up Oh ! by the way, I ’ve left the instruments 

to you, Ramsay, except the ordinary ones. Woods has 
enough in hand to pay ” 

“ And what is to become of you, Ned,” asked Helen 
anxiously, noting a certain jumpiness of insouciance in 


A SOVEHEIGN REMEDY 


235 


her cousin’s manner, a certain, almost uncanny, clear- 
ness in his eyes. “ Are you going back to New Park? ” 
“Ye gods and little fishes ! No ! ” he ejaculated. ‘ ‘ Do 
I look, Helen, like a churchwarden, or any one else who 
would find comfort in Turkey carpets ? I, my dear child, 
am going to find rest unto my soul in my own way. I — 
I am going to the Grecian Archipelago! ” 

“ My dear Ned! ” she laughed, “ don’t be so ridicu- 
lous ! What are you going to do ? You look tired ! ’ ’ 
Tired ! ” he echoed, with a quaint hint of a break in 
i his voice; “ I should think I was tired! So would 
: you be if you had to consort with — how is it Walt Whit- 
man puts it ? — ‘ tinsmiths, locksmiths, and they who work 
with the hammer, cabmen and mothers of large families. ’ 
I know now how my uncle must have felt. Excuse me, 
Helen, but I am a little bit harassed. You don’t know 
what I ’ve had to do and haven ’t had to do over this busi- 
ness ; but I ’ve got through it without any one guessing I 
was the syndicate. However, since I’ve started you, I 
really am off to Athens to-night. Afraid I shan’t have 
your company on the Oriental express — ah, Ramsay? 
Now, as I have to see Ted Cruttenden — who is just back, 
I hear, from Paris — before I start, I ’ll say good-bye.” 
i “ But will you catch the express? ” asked Dr. Ram- 
say incredulously. 

‘ ‘ I expect so. I have a special, ’ ’ replied Lord Black- 
, borough carelessly. 

They looked at each other after he had left the room. 
“ I hope he will take a rest,” said Helen, still more 
anxiously. “ I ’ve never seen him look so — so curious — as 

if he were seeing visions ” 

“ He is a little fine-drawn,” said the doctor shortly; 
“ quiet will set him all right, I expect.” 

Meanwhile Ned in his motor was running close up to 
time-limit on his way to Ted’s office. Even if he missed 
the express he was not going away without telling the lat- 
ter that he had spoken to Aura, that she had refused him, 
but that— well! he had some reason for hoping she might 
change her mind. He would have written this had he 


236 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


been able to get Ted ’s address in Paris, but no one knew 
it at the office, or at any rate they professed not to know 
it. Ted, however, had returned that morning, and Ned 
had telephoned down to him warning him to expect a 
visit. 

So there he was in his private room, looking just a 
little disturbed, just a little combative ; yet the Paris visit 
had been successful beyond his hopes. So successful in- 
deed, that there was a really magnificent diamond ring 
in his breast-pocket awaiting leisure for him to take it 
down to Cwmfaernog. 

“ I’m off for six weeks — to be exact, for thirty-nine 
days — to Athens,” said Ned, ‘‘ and I wanted to see you 
for a moment first, because I have something to tell you 
— that, I think, you ought to know. I asked Aura Gra- 
ham to marry me — on New Year’s Day it was ” 

Ted’s heart gave a great thump. It made him con- 
scious of the engagement ring, in its fine blue morocco 
case, in his breast-pocket. 

‘‘ Yes ” he said chillily — “ and — and ” He 

could not get his tongue to say ‘ ‘ she accepted you, ’ ’ al- 
though, the instant he heard Ned’s confession, he made 
up his mind that it must not force his hand in any way. 
The engagement was not yet made public; they had a 
perfect right to keep it secret if they chose. 

“ She refused me — but ” Here Ned found some 

little difficulty in going on, “ but I am not so sure if — 
if she would refuse me again. That really is all I ’ve come 
to say. ’ ’ 

He looked frankly at his companion. 

Ted stooped down and stirred the fire. 

‘ ‘ Thanks. Of course that is your opinion — I — I don ’t 
agree with it ; but anyhow a man can but take his chance. 
You take yours ard I’ll take mine.” 

“ Done! ” said Ned with a laugh, and they parted. 


CHAPTER XX 


Little blue wavelets were lapping on the pure white 
coral dust at his feet ; above his head little white cloud- 
lets were sailing upon the pure blue of the sky as Ned 
Blackborough lay on the flat of his back looking out over 
the soft southern sea. He had edged himself away from 
the turf beyond the sand for fear of crushing the great 
drifts of tiny iris which everywhere grew encircled by 
their bodyguard of grey-green scimitar-shaped leaves. 
Whether they were actually of the same sort as the one 
which Aura had dubbed the most beautiful thing in 
the most beautiful place in the world/' Ned was not 
botanist enough to know ; but his heart warmed to them 
because of their likeness to it. 

But then his heart went out to almost everything in 
this wonder island of the Sporades group, which he had 
purchased for a mere song from the Turkish Govern- 
ment. A mere song indeed! It filled him with awe to 
think of becoming the possessor of so much pure loveli- 
ness, when he had spent hundreds — nay! thousands of 
times as much — in trying to make one house fit for chil- 
dren to die in ! 

Even as it stood, it was an earthly paradise. When he 
had finished spending a little more money and a good deal 
more leisure on it, when the white marble ruins on it 
were restored, when books and music came to its pleas- 
ant pavilions, above all when Love came to take up her 
abode there, it would be a veritable fragment of the heav- 
enly Jerusalem chipped off and dropped here by chance 
in the still, deep blue sea. 

Yes ! it was extraordinarily beautiful ! It satisfied the 
soul ! 


237 


238 


A SOYEREIGHf REMEDY 


Straight away from the water’s edge, save where here 
and there a coral-sanded creek broke the clear cut of the 
cliff, the land rose steadily, cleft by sharp ravines, to a 
central peak, not high, yet high enough to hold, on this 
early morning in February, a dusting of frosty dew upon 
its summit, which shone evanescently, like snow, then dis- 
appeared before the rising sunbeams as they fell. 

The ilex woods were already green and bronze in their 
new, soft, yet spike-set shoots; the olives grew sturdily 
amongst the burnished leafage of the wild lemon and the 
wild orange, and down the ravines, where trickled scant- 
ily among the stones tiny streams of water, the oleanders 
were already preparing their blaze of red and white. 

And the flowers! Ye gods! what flowers! It would 
take Aura a lifetime simply to find out their names! 
Every thicket showed them aburst with coming blossom ; 
and, the open spaces, even thus early, were carpeted with 
fritillaries and narcissus. 

And the birds ! A pair of tiny sun-birds flitted past 
him twittering, playful, a flash of scarlet wheeling wings 
and ruby throats. On the rock yonder, an emerald and 
sapphire kingfisher sat silent, looking with large, piercing 
eyes out to sea. 

So indeed might Halcyon have sat looking for her 
Ceyx ! And as he watched the bird, immobile, mournful, 
the full beauty of the far-way Greek legend struck Ned 
Blackborough ’s mind with new force. 

Ay ! So must all those who love the Something they 
know not what, which they find, or seem to find, in some 
woman’s beauty, some man’s strength — so must they 
watch and wait, flitting ever over the waves of life seek- 
ing the Beloved. Not even the halcyon days when Zeus 
gives the wisdom of calm, could end that ceaseless quest. 
Aura had been right. Behind love was the ‘ ‘ Something 
better ’ ’ which he had felt, in which both he and she had 
been lost, as they had sat together, hand in hand, listen- 
ing to the robin as it sang on the holly-tree. 

The sun-birds flitted past again less playfully, more 
lovingly, and Ned Blackborough started up remembering 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


239 


that it was the 14th of February — St. Valentine day! 
Naturally the birds were pairing. Naturally there was 
spring in the air. Naturally his blood seemed to race 
through his veins ; he also could have made love 1 

Fautes de mieux, why should he not send Aura a val- 
entine ? He had not written to her, he had virtually said 
he would not; but a valentine — especially a valentine 
by wire as this must be — was a very impersonal affair. 

He strolled over to the rocky point, behind which, in 
a natural harbour, lay a fair-sized English sailing-boat. 
Beyond, at anchor, rode a steam yacht ; but its fires were 
out — its crew had gone off that morning in a double la- 
teen-sailed felucca to Rhodes for some festival — St. Val- 
entine’s day, no doubt. 

But for this it would have been easy to steam over to 
the telegraph office. 

There v/as the sailing-boat, however, and the weather 
was perfect. He looked out seawards critically. There 
was a certain hardness of outline in that deep blue hori- 
zon; otherwise the calm of fourteen days might well be 
beginning. 

It would be a lovely sail. Twenty miles or so over 
these ripples, with just enough warm southerly wind be- 
hind one to blow the boat straight to the telegraph office 
without a tack! As for the return journey the felucca’s 
crew would have to make that, and bring the yacht for 
him next morning. He liked Rhodes ; it was a quaint old 
town full of memories, pagan and Christian. 

Five minutes afterwards he was afloat, the sheet looped 
within reach, the tiller set steady towards a pale-blue 
cloud which lay upon the north-west horizon. 

It was the most perfect of mornings. The boat lay 
over a trifle to the wind, which was stronger beyond the 
lee of the island, and sent a little half-apologetic tinkling, 
bubbling laugh of water along the side as it slid through 
the waving lines of ripple. 

“ Let me pass! good people,” it seemed to say. “ Let 
me laugh ! I have a purpose — you have none. Ha — ^ha — 
ha! ” 


240 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


So, unheeding of the ripples, might the unchanging 
Purpose behind all things break through the little waves 
of the world and laugh at their disturbance. 

Ned Blackborough lit a cigarette — a good sound, opi- 
um-soddened Egyptian cigarette such as his soul loved — 
and set himself deliberately to day-dreams. It was be- 
coming more and more a temptation for him to do this, 
for he was only just beginning to realise the intense 
pleasure he derived from it ! A sensual, purely aesthetic 
pleasure for the most part, though every now and 
again. . . . Yes! every now and again he left even the 
super-sensual part of him behind, and lost himself ut- 
terly. In what, he did not know. He only knew that It 
was there, and He was forgotten. 

To-day, however, he was in no mood for the infinite; 
the finite was quite sufficient for him, so he amused 
himself by looking steadily at the shining dark sur- 
face of some bilge water which lay by the tarred keel 
of the boat, and trying to imagine that he would see 
visions in it, as the little Cairo boys see them in a drop 
of ink. 

He had tested this often, and knew that they did see 
strange things, just as Helen apparently had seen the 
fire on Cam’s point in the crystal. Truly there were 
many mysteries! 

It was, of course, not hard to conjure up Aura’s face, 
or see her seated in the sheep shelter listening to the 
bird, or standing in the moonlight among the cedar shad- 
ows on the lawn holding out the sovereign, or on her 
knees beside the little purple iris while the sphinx looked 
down on her. 

But beyond all these tricks of memory, what could he 
see? Nothing. Yet what was this? A wide stretch of 
blue — blue everywhere. Bah ! it was only the refiection 
of the sky ; it was the floor of heaven ! 

His eyes narrowed themselves from dreaminess to 
thought. It was strange that that inner eye, which could 
produce things from the past with such absolute accu- 
racy, should be so helpless in regard to the present ex- 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


241 


cept in negation. It could make one forget that alto- 
gether. 

As for the future? Truly the mind of man dreamt 
idly when it sought to discover what lay beyond ; possibly 
because it sought to recognise itself in conditions in 
whmh Self should have been merged in something beyond 

So as he sat idly looking at the drop of dark water, he 
felt for a moment — aided, no doubt, by the opium in his 
cigarette! — as if he were sailing on over a sea that vi- 
brated ceaselessly with a soft quiver which brought no 
sensation of light to his eyes, no sense of feeling to his 
touch, no sense of sound to his ears. 

And the old Indian definition recurred to him — A 
bubble upon the Ocean of Bliss. 

The sharp rug of a running rope recalled him to the 
present ; the loop of the sheet Avas slipping as the breeze 
freshened. 

It was freshening indeed. Behind him lay quite a 
squall, crisping the ripples to little indignant waves, and 
over in the south-east a cloud, pale-grey but threatening, 
already showed as a widening arch from the horizon. 
One of the swift spring storms was coming up apace, and 
he must run for it for all he was worth. There was no 
more time for dreams ; every ounce of the squall that goes 
before the storm must be made use of if he was to send 
his valentine. 

But he would send it safe enough, unless the wind 
shifted. After a while, during which the boat, hard held, 
flew through the waves, and the blue cloud to the north- 
ward rose higher and higher on the horizon, the wind 
did shift just at a point or two towards the south, and 
he in his turn had to shift his tiller so as to keep that ex- 
treme north-eastern headland before him. So it became 
a harder tussle than ever between him and the wind to 
keep full way on the boat. She was carrying more sail 
than was safe, but he could not afford to lose a moment of 
time; although, all things being equal, he had still a 
fair chance of making the land. 


242 


A SOVEIiEIGN REMEDY 


Another slight shift ! and now before him — a gleam of 
light on the land that was already shadowed by the com- 
ing storm — he saw a creek of white sand slightly to 
westward of him, where he could at least have a chance 
of beaching his boat, where, for the matter of that, if 
the worst came to worst, he would at least have a better 
chance of not being dashed to pieces if he tried to swim. 
Beyond, the coast was cliff-bound, rock-bound. 

Would she take so much ? He let the sheet slip through 
his fingers half inch by half inch, gauging the wind’s 
pressure on the sail cautiously. Yes ! she would take it. 
He could make the creek if all went well. 

But he had reckoned without the current which here, 
close to the land, began to gather itself for a head- 
long race round that eastern cliff; so inch by inch the 
boat’s prow slid from the white streak of safety to the 
rocks. 

Would she stand another inch of rope? 

She stood it, and leapt forward like a greyhound, giv- 
ing to the full sweep of the storm which at that moment, 
with a crash of thunder, broke over them ; then righting 
herself and careering before it like some mad thing, her 
way redoubled by the fierce wind which sang in Ned’s 
ears, as, clinging to one taffrail with his hand, he stood 
almost on the other. There was no time now even for 
thought; the feeling of fight came in its place, since to 
steady the tiller for the creek one moment, and give to 
the huge rollers the next, was enough for soul, and brain, 
and body. 

Then on the crest of a wave he saw the creek in front 
of him, but saw also that a giant roller just behind him 
must swamp the boat unless he steered straight towards 
the rocks on the north-east. They were sharp, jagged 
rocks, like teeth just showing above the boil of the waves. 
How far out did the reef run? What length was that 
ravening jaw? 

Who could say? The next instant, with his boots 
kicked off, and the thwart, on which he had kept an 
eye this while past, held under his arm-pits by his out- 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


243 


stretched arms, as a buoy, he had leapt into the roller 
as it lifted the boat. The water felt warm to him, spray 
and wind-chilled as he was ; warm, but rough, as it seized 
him, ducked him, cuffed him, bruised him ; all but broke 
him, ere with a mighty rush it flung him forwards. Ye 
gods ! what it was not to be quite sound — to have an arm 
that could not stand a strain ! Still that awful something 
against which he had struck in the downdraw had been 
warded off somehow and . . . 

Then once more the following roller, stronger of the 
giant twins which hunt the wide wastes of water in 
couples, overtook him, caught him, buffeted him, knocked 
him senseless, so, with a wild shrieking scramble of peb- 
bles and coral sand, swept him up to the very last corner 
of the creek. His head, as he lay stunned, was within an 
inch of a jagged needle-point of rock which would have 
crashed into his skull as if it had been an egg-shell. 

It was full five minutes ere another giant wave reached 
out for him and felt him about the feet. But by this 
time that was enough to rouse him. He stirred, sat up, 
and half-mechanically withdrew himself stiffly beyond 
any further touch. He was bleeding from cuts in the 
hands and on his knees; but that seemed to be all the 
damage done. 

Except for the boat, of course . . . What of the boat ? 
It was matchwood already amongst those devilish rocks to 
I the eastward. 

j “ That was a nearish squeak,” he murmured softly 
as he rose, and limping a little, sought shelter among the 
clefts of the cliff from the blinding torrents of rain. 

An hour or so afterwards, however, having with easy 
grace and some small knowledge of Turkish and modern 
Greek hired a gaily caparisoned mule from a neighbour- 
ing farmer, he rode up the Knights’ Street quite cheer- 
fully, dried and warmed by the sun, which, after the 
brief storm, had shone out again radiantly, carelessly. 

He had settled what the valentine was to be from the 
very moment that the idea of it had entered his head, but 
it took him fully half an hour to see it safely through the 


244 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


hands of the Turkish officials, and then they charged him 
for a message in cipher. 

Yet it was only a very simple quotation: — 

‘ Haply I think on thee, and then my state. 

Like to the lark at break of day uprising 
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate.’ 

He did not even put his name to it, for it seemed im- 
possible to him that she should not know who sent it. 

By this time it was close on four o’clock, and he com- • 
puted the difference in longitude by his watch. j 

“ She ought to get it at latest by four,” he said to j 
himself as he strolled off to the old church to live awhile ' 
amongst the ghosts of the Crusaders and the Knights | 
Hospitalliers of St. John. ; 

As a matter of fact it was a quarter to four when the ; 
brick-dust coloured envelope was put into Aura’s hands, J 
but she was still looking at it with a certain scare in her ) 
eyes and a certain flutter at her heart when Ted came 
down from her grandfather’s room at four o’clock. Of 1 
course she knew wffio had sent it. No one but Ned would ^ 
have thought of anything at once so consoling and so dis- 
turbing. To rise from earth and ‘‘ sing hymns at heav- J 
en’s gate ” was quite in order; but how about the | 
‘ ‘ Haply I think on thee ” ? | 

“ What’s that? ” asked Ted kindly, as he sat down m 
beside her on the sofa, which had been imported into the | 
bare, empty room for the invalid’s use. “ Anything I 1 
can do? ” |l 

That again was so like him; always thinking of ma- M 
terial help in everything. 9 

“ Nothing,” she replied, hurriedly crumpling up the M 
per, and thrusting it under the sofa cushion. “ Noth- m 
ing, at least of any consequence. ’ ’ She was wearing the I 
diamonds now, and they flashed on her finger, bringing S 
the sunburn brown of her hand into greater promi- J 
nence. “ You look worried, Ted,” she went on. You ^ 
don’t think grandfather is worse, do you? He was very 
disturbed, I know, but ” S 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


245 


Ted shook his head. “ Not worse, certainly. I left 
him asleep. Besides, the doctor says there is no imme- 
diate danger of any sort. But I am worried. The fact 
is, my darling ’’ — his arm was round her, but not too 
aggressively, for, in truth, though he loved her dearly, 
his world held many other interests besides love — this 
sort of thing cannot go on. This is the third time I have 
been sent for since the New Year. I don’t grudge it, 
dearest, one bit. There is always the joy of seeing you ; 
but if Hirsch hadn ’t been kindness itself I couldn ’t have 
managed it. And it doesn’t really do the dear old man 
any good. Here he is to-day fretting himself ill about 
my having to go away, about our being married. So I 
was wondering, dearest ” 

“ Yes, Ted,” she put in calmly. 

Ted took his arm away, and sat resting his head in 
his hands and looking vexedly into the fire. ‘‘It is a 
good deal to ask of us — especially to ask of you,” he 
went on ; “ but you see I must go off this evening, so it 
wouldn’t make any real difference, since we are l)ound 
indissolubly to each other as it is — aren ’t we ? ” 

He took her left hand and kissed the diamond ring as 
he spoke. 

“ Of course we are,” she assented. “ Go on, Ted.” 

“ So — if you will consent — I could fetch the rector — 
he is a surrogate, I find; but, as a matter of fact, I got 
the license at Blackborough — and we could be married 
before I go. Don’t look so startled, my dearest! It 
shan’t be if you don’t wish it. And I hate asking for it, 
only I believe it would really quiet the dear old man, 
and give him a better chance — and me too, of course, 
for this sort of thing is a little — just a little — ^well I lim- 
iting. And, as I say, it would make no difference — ex- 
cept perhaps that I should find it harder than ever to 
leave my wife. ’ ’ 

His voice sank to almost playful tenderness, his arm 
stole round her waist again, and she rose hurriedly. 

“ But— but is this possible? ” she asked incredulously. 
‘ ‘ I thought there was so much formality 


246 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


He smiled tolerantly. “ Not at all! a special license 
is all that’s required, and I have that; so if you — you 
dear, solemn thing ! — ^will really consent to do without a 
wedding ” 

She looked at him, startled. ‘ ‘ But surely we are going 
to be married ? ’ ’ 

He laughed loudly. “ Of course we are. I meant the 
bridesmaids and the cake and the orange-blossoms and all 
that. I don’t want them, darling, if you don’t. It’s 
enough for me to have you. ’ ’ 

She set the question and his kiss aside as of no value 
whatever. ‘ ‘ Then I think you had better get the rector 
if you can, Ted,” she said thoughtfully. ‘‘ I expect it 
will make a great difference to him — to grandfather, I 
mean — and to you also. And you’ve been so awfully 
good ! Will you tell grandfather % ’ ’ she added with a lit- 
tle blush as she released herself from her lover’s thanks. 

Well, you see,” he confessed, “ I’ve half-promised 
him already — that is why he went to sleep. You are 
always so reasonable. Aura, I felt I might count on 


And then the sight of her standing there so sweet, so 
kind, so absolutely unconscious, seemed to overwhelm 
him, and he cried passionately, ‘ ‘ Oh, my dear, my dear ! 
I hope I shall make you happy — ^but you are a thousand 
times too good for me.” 

He told himself so over and over again as he hurried 
on his bicycle to the rectory, and he swore to himself al- 
most incoherently that although the rush of mere money- 
making had absorbed much of his waking life, it should 
never invade the corner that was sacred to his love. And 
as he said this he turned his head suddenly towards the 
winter woods, for in his ears that mellow blackbird call to 
the wilds seemed to sound, as it had sounded that even- 
ing when, all unwitting, he had sold his soul to Mr. 
Hirsch. 

When he had gone on his mission Aura drew out Ned’s 
valentine again, smoothed it over, and looked at it once 
more. For the first time in her life she felt the need 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


247 


of some one — some woman to whom she could talk. Fin- 
ally she folded up the telegram, put it on the mantelpiece, 
and went into the kitchen. There was always Martha, 
and Martha’s sound common-sense was a byword. 

‘ ‘ Martha, ’ ’ she said, after standing for a few moments 
watching the deft hands dab butter over paste, and roll 
it in with swift decision — it was almost like watching the 
mill which grinds small ! “I want to ask you something ; 
but you must promise not to mention it even to Adam. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Even to Bate ! ’ ’ echoed Martha with a sniff. ‘ ‘ If 
I ’d my choice. Miss H ’Aura, I ’d as lief mention it to the 
town-crier. Not that Bate doesn’t mean well. It ain’t 
his fault being born so ; but there, one must just take holt 
of men as they’re made, and be thankful they is no 
worse. ’ ’ 

Why this should have heartened Aura up it is hard to 
say, but it did. She actually smiled. “ What I wanted 
to ask was this, Martha. In your experience — do you 
think it hurts a man very much to be in love — I mean, of 
course, to be in love with some one who doesn’t want — 
I mean who won’t marry him? ” 

Martha poised the rolling-pin on one hip, her hand on 
the other. 

‘ ‘ Hurt ’em ! ’ ’ she echoed. ‘ ‘ Lord sakes, no ! It ’s the 
makin’ o’ them. Bate wouldn’t be ’alf so spry at his 
years if he ’adn ’t bin wantin ’ to marry me any time this 
fourteen year back. That’s why I won’t ’ave him even 
now. Miss H ’Aura. ‘ Bate, ’ says I, ‘ if I was to take you 
now, you’d get fat an’ lazy. You wouldn’t rise no more. 
You’d be like whipped eggs as is let stand, all gone to 
froth an ’ water. ’ No ! Miss H ’Aura, men is like heggs, 
they want beatin ’ ’ard all the time, else they ’ll never rise 
to better things.” 

The rolling-pin came down on the pastry with more 
decision than ever, and Aura laughed out loud. Some- 
thing in the very phrasing of the last words comforted 
her. 

Yet she was not quite content as she chpged her day- 
dress for the white cambric one she wore in the evening ; 


248 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


after all, it was but putting it on an hour or so before 
her usual time, and the Mechlin lace about her throat was i 
a concession which would please her grandfather. ,j 

“ Aura! — my dearest, you look quite bridal,” ex- 
claimed Ted, as he came in to find her sitting by the fire- 
light. ‘ ‘ It seems too good to be true — but the rector will 
be here in half an hour. ’ ’ He knelt down beside her, and 
laid his head in her lap. “ My dear, my dear! ” he said 
almost with a sob. “ I don’t seem able to say anything •; 
but that, somehow,” he added almost pathetically. Far { 
away, dimly, he saw a vision of something better, unat- I 
tainable, incompatible with his sensuous life. It was i 
beautiful but — ^what would you ? Man is but man ; and j 
he must have money wherewith to live. ! 

“ Then there is something which I must tell you — be- ) 
fore,” she said; “ it is something which I think you ^ 
ought to know. Ned asked me to marry him on New ; 
Year’s Day — and I refused.” I 

Ted’s heart gave a great throb as it had done when ! 
Ned Blackborough had used much the same words nearly 'I 
a month before. 

“ I — I am sorry for Ned,” he said softly, “ but I don’t , 

see ” j 

For answer she held out the telegram. “ He sent me s 
this to-day, ’ ’ she said, ‘ ‘ and I wonder — if he is waiting. ’ ’ ] 
‘‘ Waiting! ” echoed Ted hotly. “ Waiting for what? | 
You say you refused him? ” 5 

“Yes! I told him I would not marry him — because I 8 
was afraid of loving him too much ; that was the truth. ’ ’ I 
For one instant the whole room seemed to spin round 8 
with Ted ; he had to steady himself by holding to the back | 
of a chair. | 

‘ ‘ I don ’t understand what you mean, ’ ’ he said thickly. '1 
^ ‘ I don ’t think he did either, ’ ’ she replied with a lin- | 
gering regret in her voice, “ for he said he would ask | 
me again in two months, as if that would alter anything.” 

Ted caught swiftly at the ray of light. “ Then if he , 
asked you again — you — you would refuse him ? ’ ’ 

The firelight had died down so that he could not see the 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


249 


flush which surged into her face, but he could hear her 
voice as she replied, “Yes! I should refuse him — more 
than ever.” 

“ Then,” he said slowly after a pause, “ I don’t see 
why you need bother ” 

“ Oh! it was not that,” she put in quickly. “ I was 
only wondering— you see I know so little, and I have no 
mother — if he would expect me to wait.” 

The firelight flared up again, and he saw her with the 
lace about her throat. “ Let him wait! ” he exclaimed 
passionately ; “ he had his fair chance and I have mine. 
I am sorry, but one of us had to win. You can’t help 
that, you poor little dear — ^that is fate. ’ ’ 

He told himself it was indeed fate: he swore to him- 
self that he would be the best husband ever woman had. 

But for all that the ceremony damped even his joy. 
To begin with, Martha wept copiously in a corner, as she 
had wept ever since Ted had gone in to the kitchen and 
taken her away unceremoniously from her pastry-mak- 
ing as a witness. At first she had sunk into a chair, and 
steadfastly refused to budge (on the ground that she 
couldn’t “ ’ave sech things going on in the ’ouse,” but 
after a time the importance of being in possession of a 
dead secret, and her perception that if his lordship was 
not going to come forward — and he seemed, indeed, in- 
clined to play the back step — this was decidedly the next 
best thing for her darling, induced her to yield. 

“ And if you loves ’im and ’e loves you, there ain’t 
no fear, same as there ain’t no fear but what good barm 
and good flour’ll make a good batch o’ bread — ^no fear 
at all my deary dear,” she had sobbed consolingly to 
Aura, who stood quite composed, but very white. Ted, 
strong and kindly, clasped her hand, and what soul 
was left over and above his bargain was in his eyes. 

The rector, in biretta and cope, read the service una- 
bridged, while Sylvanus Smith, propped comfortably in 
his arm-chair, averted his face from the sacerdotal syin- 
bols, even while he added an unctious Amen ” of his 
own to “ let no man put asunder.” 


250 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


He even essayed a burst of hilarity as he kissed Mrs. 
Cruttenden, but Ted scarcely availed himself of his priv- 
ileges. He only stood beside Aura, holding her hand, 
divided in his heart of hearts whether he should go or 
whether he should stay. 

But in the end prudence triumphed and a sense of 
duty; for the last month of constant interruptions had 
not been favourable to business, and if Aura — if his wife 
— were ever to appear in that pink satin and diamonds, it 
behooved him to bestir himself. 

So Adam Bate, coming in after milking the cows at 
eight o’clock, found the house silent, curiously silent, 
with Martha seated on a chair, her feet on the fender, 
her eyes on the fire. 

He cast a glance at the table. It was bare ; so after a 
while he coughed. 

‘ ‘ Beant there no supper, Martha, woman ? ” he asked 
apologetically. 

Martha rose in an instant, aflame. 

“ There’s bin that, Adam Bate, a-goin’ on in this ’ouse 
this day, as no one didn’t want to ’ave no supper — ^not 
if they was Christian — but bein’ a man — ^there’s bread 
and cheese in the cupboard. ’ ’ 


CHAPTER XXI 


March had come in like a lion. Even in the village of 
Dinas, sheltered as it was, the east wind swept down the 
funnel of the valley and through the very houses, as only^ 
an east wind in Wales can sweep, bitter, absolutely un-’ 
sparing of man or beast. 

Alicia Edwards gathered her cross-over shawl closer 
to her as she stood in her father’s shop and listened for 
the click of the telegraph instrument. It was almost the 
only amusement she had now, and any moment might 
bring the wire for which Adam Bate and the housekeeper 
at Cwmfaernog had been calling in vain these two days 
past. 

It was becoming serious. They would have to bury 
the poor, dead gentleman after all, if some one did not 
come to help them to arrange — the other thing. For 
in this far away Welsh village, where every boy and girl 
had been educated up to the standard set by the most ad- 
vanced progressivists of the day, the very idea of crema- 
tion was absolute damnation. It could be nothing else, 
since how could the Creator resurrect a body that did not 
exist 1 So half the village thought it only right that such 
an atheist as Mr. Sylvanus Smith had been in life should 
meet the fire without delay, and the other half, more 
mercifully inclined, explained the difficulty in getting 
hold of Mr. Cruttenden, the dead man’s executor, as 
symptomatic of pity on the part of Providence. 

Alicia Edwards, thinking over this, sighed. It was 
only one more case in which the teaching of school ran 
counter to the knowledge that was necessary in daily life. 
For what would her father, the elder, what would she 
herself say, if she was to allow even elementary science 

251 


252 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


to interfere with her belief ? The world was a very con- 
fusing place. There was but one certain thing in it for 
a woman, and that was love ; but every one could not get 
love. She thought of her own struggle for it and her 
failure. Myf anwy had beaten her. She had reft Mervyn 
away even from his great vocation, and rumour had it 
that, after a little longer service in Williams and Ed- 
wards’s shop, those two would be married and set up in a 
small business of their own. In face of this, what did all 
the rest matter? Despite all the talk in the village con- 
cerning Mervyn ’s sudden departure and Morris Pugh’s 
equally sudden resignation of the pastorship of Dinas, 
she had held her tongue with fair discretion, only allow- 
ing a few mysterious surmises to leak out. To begin 
with, Myf anwy ’s last words had alarmed her, and then 
the offenders had passed altogether from her control. 
What would it matter to Mervyn, now employee in Will- 
iams and Edwards, if it was found out that he had ruined 
half the girls in Dinas? 

Besides, something new and stern in her father’s at- 
titude towards her in regard to the revival made her sus- 
pect that he was not without his suspicions. The less 
said about morals the better, especially since the effect of 
those midnight meetings was already making itself felt 
in the immediate neighbourhood. For Isaac Edwards 
was relentless on this point. He had downright refused 
to let her go on with her sweet singing now that all 
her companions had died or disappeared; so having, of 
course, lost her post as pupil teacher, there was nothing 
for it but to stop at home and prepare, so her father said, 
for a normal college. The girl herself stiffened a sullen 
lip and looked down the lane which led to the minister’s 
house now occupied by the Reverend Hwfa Williams; 
for he admired her. Of that there could be no question. 
The possibility of marrying him, indeed, had become 
quite a factor in her life, and she decided most points 
with a view to this possibility. Small wonder then if 
Alicia Edwards’s amicability and her general desirability 
as a minister’s wife had begun to strike Hwfa Williams 


A SOVEHEIGN REMEDY 


253 


himself, while even Isaac Edwards was beginning to 
waver in his insistance on Logarithms and the Science of 
Tuition. 

Put on your hat, Alicia,” he said from his ledger, 
“ and run down the road. It will warm you up before 
you have to go to the Bible class.” 

And Alicia went, nothing loth. It was better battling 
with the wind than watching for telegrams which never 
came, especially when there was the chance of coming 
back with the wind and with a man whose pale, heavy, 
dark-browed face was beginning to become to you, by 
diligent care and concentration, the handsomest in the 
world. 

So she fought her ground steadily against the swirling 
clouds of dust. 

Had she only gone up the hill over the short, springy 
grass and the broken brown bracken she would have en- 
joyed the wind, as Ned Blackborough was enjoying it on 
his way to Cwmfaernog. For it was the 1st of March, 
the day on which he had promised Aura he would re- 
turn and ask her once more to marry him. He had 
come back from the East but the day before, and being, 
so to speak, made up of impulses, moods, fancies, in the 
indulgence of which he had of late sought his chief 
pleasures, he had determined to find his way to her, as 
he had found it that very first night, over the summit 
of Llwydd y Bryn, the “ Eye of the World.” 

Such fancies hurt no one, but he was beginning to 
realise that in them lay all the salt of life. What was it 
to the world, absorbed conventionally in the sordid sleep 
which follows perforce on sordid money grubbing, if he 
found the highest rhythm of life in the quiver of the 
moonlit woods? Nothing. Let those see who had the 
eyes to see. 

So when, a bit wearied with his climb, he sat down 
where he had carelessly put out his hand to catch the 
flying footsteps of day, it struck him now, thoughtfully, 
that, in truth, it was all a man ’s lif e,^ all he could do 
towards gaining happiness. He must just catch at the 


254 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


flying footsteps of something unseen. Ever since the day 
when death had so nearly overtaken him while he was 
studying life in a black drop of water, he had been haunt- 
ed at times by that feeling of sightlessness, touehlessness, 
soundlessness which had come to him then. 

It came to him now on the top of Llwydd y Bryn, 
though before his bodily eyes lay half the principality 
of Wales, spread out as if it were a map. Surpassingly 
beautiful too. In its way as beautiful as that island in 
the ^gean, now waiting ready for its mistress, for he 
was quite prepared to follow Aura into the wilderness 
if needs be. He had thought much concerning her and 
concerning himself during the last six weeks, and he had 
begun to recognise that in some ways she was right in 
shrinking from what she called love, as a desecration of 
herself and of him. The feeling, however, was due to 
the absolutely unnatural association in marriage of the 
MIND with the body. An association which was simply an 
attempt to find a mental fig-leaf for what either required 
none, or was beyond decent cover. One thing, however, 
seemed to him certain. Aura must both love him and 
also desire to marry him. Yes, she loved him, or thought 
she did, which to her was the same thing. 

He sprang to his feet, that thought being enough to 
start him on any path, and, ere leaving the summit, 
cast one look round it, remembering gladly that it might 
be the last time he should see it. 

All was as his recollection held it. Just a brown, 
peaty, stone-strewn rise, and beyond, on all sides, an 
immensity of sea and sky and land. Only the placard 
on the shieling had been damaged by the winter 
storms. The ultimate 6d. was gone and “ginger beer ’’ 
stood alone, vaunting itself free like the nectar of the 
gods. 

Ginger beer! That was about what it came to for 
the million. 

With an amused shrug of the shoulders he began the 
descent, every step of which was beautiful, every sight 
in which brought to him the feeling as if he trod 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


255 

on air, as if nothing in heaven or earth could trammel 
him again. 

As he crossed the stream above the farm buildings, 
where on that night nine months ago they had stood and 
shouted, the whole steading struck him as looking for- 
lorn and deserted, but, being sure of finding Martha in 
the kitchen, he went boldly through the cottage and 
passed through the door that was like a coal cellar’s to 
the garden room. But this time there was no flash of 
blinding sunlight to dazzle him. It was almost dark, for 
the green sun-blinds on either side were drawn down; 
that, however, was surely a figure by the window. 

“At last! ” came Aura’s voice, full of infinite relief. 
“I am so glad.” 

Swept away by the whole-heartedness of his welcome 
he went forward swiftly and had her in his arms, but 
his first touch was enough ; she shrank back with a half- 
articulate cry of surprise and thrust him from her by 
force. 

‘ ‘ Aura I ” he said almost incredulously, ‘ ‘ and you 
sounded — so — so glad. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I thought — I thought you were Ted, ’ ’ she explained 
with a little sob. “ I’ve been expecting him so long, you 
see.” 

“ Ted! ” he echoed, “ you have been expecting him? 
I don’t understand.” 

“ No,” she replied hurriedly in a low voice. “ Of 
course, I forgot you couldn’t.” There was a faint pause, 

then she collected herself. “ We — we were mpried ” 

This time the pause remained unbroken until coolly, al- 
most sarcastically, the question came. 

“You w^ere married! May I ask — when? ” 

The darkness of those drawn down blinds was in a way 
a godsend to them both. It hid all expression, and it 
seemed to Ned Blackborough in his incredulous dismay 
as if he were speaking to a disembodied spirit; was he 
also, bv some chance, a disembodied spirit? 

“ I-^I don’t remember,” came her voice, all strained 
and curiously weary. “ Oh, yes; of course I do. It was 


256 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


on the 14th of February/’ She was just beginning to 
remember dates, and to recollect that this must be the 
1st of March. Everything seemed to have been blotted 
out by her grandfather’s sudden death two days be- 
fore, and the impossibility of getting any answer to 
her telegram from Ted, Ted on whom she had learnt 
to rely. 

Ned laughed suddenly. “ St. Valentine’s Day,” he 
echoed. “ So I sent you my valentine as a wedding 
present. If I had only known, I mightn’t have taken so 
much — trouble — to send it olf. I expect I was pretty 
near death when you were getting married, young lady, 
and I compliment you on the quickness ” 

‘ ‘ But we were engaged, quite a long time before, ’ ’ she 
said in idle protest, for something in her seemed ham- 
mering at her head, beating into it the knowledge that 
she had been mean. 

Once more he laughed. “ May I ask how long? ” 

“ On — on New Year’s Day.” He could scarcely hear 
what she said. 

On New Year’s Day,” he echoed incredulously, 
‘ ‘ impossible ! ’ ’ Then the conviction that, if this were 
so, Ted Cruttenden had — well ! almost lied to him 
came to rouse his anger to the uttermost, and he strode 
towards her shadow. “ But this is foolishness,” he 
exclaimed, “ You know you love me — ^you know you 
do ” 

‘ ‘ Hush ! ’ ’ she cried, interrupting his swift rise in 
tone, ‘ ‘ Remember, please, that my grandfather lies dead 
upstairs. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Dead ! ” he said stupidly after a pause, ‘ ‘ Dead ! I — 
I didn ’t know. I — I am very sorry. ’ ’ The conventional 
words of sympathy came slowly as he stood, feeling 
baulked indescribably, done out, as it were, of his just 
claim to anger. 

‘‘Are there any more terrors to tell? ” he asked at 
last recklessly. “ Do you happen to be dead yourself, 
or has the ‘ coo ’ been killed? I beg your pardon — you 
won’t understand the allusion ” he added hastily, 


A 80TEREIG2f REMEDY 


257 

“but I must be excused; there are limits! So, I see; 
you took me for Ted — for your husband, save the mark ! 
Why isn’t he here? — where he ought to be? ” 

The sudden blame, following her own thought so close- 
ly, took Aura all unprepared. The dull grievance which 
had been hers all those long hours of vain waiting be- 
came suddenly acute. She dissolved into young self-pity- 
ing tears. 

“ I don’t know,” she murmured, strangling her sobs, 
“ and I don’t in the least know what to do.” 

For an instant Ned Blackborough felt inclined to ar- 
raign high heaven for thus robbing him of righteous 
wrath. 

But he was a gentleman, his heart was soft, so there 
was nothing for it save to accept the situation with the 
best grace he could. And the grace came, to his surprise, 
with such exceeding ease, despite his ill-usage, that he 
had to drive himself not towards patience, but to impa- 
tience, as he listened to Aura’s tale of ignorance and 
loneliness. 

A man with money behind him, or rather money with 
a man behind it, can do all things save avoid vulgarity, 
ensure happiness, or escape death. 

By the evening, therefore, Ned Blackborough was able 
to give Aura a most sympathetic and aifectionate tele- 
gram from her husband. 

“ We ran him to earth in Vienna, where he had gone 
on business,” said Ned, refraining, why he scarcely 
knew, from saying also that Ted had been found in a 
Biergarten, and that he had left strict orders that tele- 
grams were not to be forwarded. “ I got him through 
Hirsch, but he again was unfortunately in Paris; they 
have some big scoop on hand. But it is all right now, 
and he should be home to-morrow. As for the rest, you 
need not bother. It is all settled, and I will tell Martha 
what to expect. So I will say good-bye.” 

She could not stifle down the quick appeal, “ Must 
you go? ” 

“ Of course, I must go,” he replied roughly, “ I ought 


258 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


never to have come, and I am sorry I did, even though 
I have helped you. Good-bye.” 

She watched him put on his greatcoat without an- 
other word, almost angry with herself for feeling so in- 
expressibly mean. She would have liked to tell him that 
she had been unable to wait, that even if she had waited 
her answer would have been the same ; but she felt that 
all this must come afterwards when he had had time. 

And then suddenly he turned to her again. 

“ I’ll leave this here, I think,” he said, putting a flat 
parcel he had taken out from his pocket on the piano, 
“ you might while an hour or so by looking at them. It 
— it isn’t all cussedness, Mrs. Cruttenden; I should like 
you to see them. I should like you to know something 
of it, once! Good-bye; throw them into the fire when 
you have done with them. I shall not want them again. ’ ’ 

When he had gone she went over to the piano, and 
taking the packet crouched down with it beside the fading 
fire-light, which she stirred into a blaze. To other eyes 
the room might have looked inexpressibly dreary, large, 
bare, empty, even the very sofa, imported into it for the 
old man ’s invalid use, taken away for him when the stairs 
became too much for his strength. But Aura was accus- 
tomed to the bareness ; it had been part of her life always. 

They were sketches evidently, and on the fold of white 
paper, which was their last covering, Ned had written 
one word. 

‘ ‘ Avilion. ’ ’ 

She sat looking at them all, these plans and sketches 
of the island in the southern sea, that was to have been 
that Island of the Blessed, of which a glimpse only can 
be seen by mortals, when at sunset time the golden sea 
fades into the golden sky, and far away — is it land or is 
it cloud? — a purple shadow, tipped with rosy light into 
distant peaks, fades with the sky into the grey of night. 

How beautiful they were 1 And in every one of them, 
in front, even of the foreground, looking out, as the 
painter himself must have looked out, over the blue rip- 
ples, down into the pellucid cave depths where strange 


A SOYEREIQIf REMEDY 


259 


fish showed in flashes of colour, towards the leafy con- 
tours of the ilex woods, along the flower-decked lawns, 
or through the fluted columns of marble pavilions, stood 
the filmy diaphanous figure of a woman, white, immobile, 
mist-like with averted face. 

But she knew who it was, and a lump rose in her throat 
as she recognised it as his dream of her. 

She was not worth it ! No ! Behind his dream of her 
stood a reality that had nothing to do with her. He was 
seeking, and she was seeking something that had nothing 
to do with manhood or womanhood. 

The fire blazed up fiercely, fitfully, as one by one in 
obedience to his request, those dreamful figures caught, 
flared up for a space, and then died down into little 
trembling sparks. 

Behind them all lay Darkness and Peace. So to her 
as she sat holding the Dream of a Man’s Love in her 
hands, came for the first time a glimpse of the sightless- 
ness and soundlessness, and touchlessness, which lie be- 
yond all earthly things. 

Ned meanwhile was giving his orders to Martha in the 
kitchen. She was taking them, as usual, with many 
subservient bobs, but with a certain waveringness of 
voice, and an unsteadiness of eye which augured ill for 
her calm of mind. 

‘ ^ I ’ll do my best, your lordship, ’ ’ she said finally with 
an odd little sniff, half tears, half anger. “ But what 
with folks going away as shud ’ave stayed, an’ them as 
might a-gone away an’ welcome stoppin’ on, an’ both 
together cornin’ back an’ staying away, I’m like a o-ven 
with the door bein’ open constant — not fit to bake a 
penny-piece.” 

Ned looked at her, for a wonder, distastefully. 

“ Do you mean,” he said, “ that you didn’t expect to 
see me again ? ’ ’ 

Martha grew red, then white. “ So sure as my name’s 
Martha Higgins,” she began tearfully, “ If I’d expected 
your lordship wasn’t playin’ the back-step ” 

He interrupted her calmly. “I’m sorry to say it, 


260 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


Martha, but I think you are a fool, ’ ^ he said calmly, and 
left her collapsed in a chair crying silently, not so much 
for herself as for him; since she had seen the tragedy 
of his face. 

Adam Bate, coming in ten minutes later, found her 
so, and being diffident of his power to console, crept away 
again to administer comfort to a newly calved cow who 
was lowing for her young one. 

“ Coo-up, Coo-ep, m’dear,” he said, wisping its back 
with a handful of straw, “ th ’ shallt ’ave it for sure when 
th’ bags full, so set th’ mind to the makin’ o’ milk. See ! 
there’s a bit o’ mangle fur ’ee, but mind ’ee ‘ to whom 
much is given of them shall much be requir-ed, ’ as passon 
says. So — ‘ pail-full, cauf-fulL’ Think o’ that an’ din- 
not squander God’s strength on booin’.” 

He felt inclined to read some such moral lesson to 
Martha when he returned to find her in no better case, 
the fire dwindling and no sign of tea; but, as has been 
said, he felt diffident. So he contented himself with 
laying the tea, poking up the fire and putting on the 
kettle, accompanying these unwonted actions with the 
hissing noise which grooms use, apparently as an en- 
couragement to their own ardour. Perhaps this aided 
him to courage; perhaps the presence of death in the 
house taking him back to fundamentals roused in him a 
revolt of vitality, a desire to secure safety in equilibrium ; 
anyhow, after a time, he sat himself down in a kitchen 
chair, and scrooped it by excruciating half-inches towards 
Martha’s, until they almost touched. 

‘ ‘ Martha, woman ! ” he said tentatively, ‘ ‘ If this sort 
o’ thing’s goin’ on — If you ’urns goin’ to be taken, this 
no supper, no tea way, as you ’um bin doin ’ o ’ late — why 
there ain’t nothin’ for it but ter marry me, as doan’t 
f orgit them things. ’ ’ 

Martha shook her head forlornly. “ It — it’ll have to 
come to that in the end, I sippose,” she sobbed. 

You might have knocked Adam down with a feather. 
After all these fourteen years to be even so grudgingly 
accepted as this, made him feel that the round world was 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


261 


no longer sure. He sat with his mouth wide open, won- 
dering what topic of conversation would in the future 
take the place of unending proposal and refusal. Then 
the sense that he must leave such dark things to Provi- 
dence, and do his duty in the present by himself, and 
Martha made him ask tremulously — 

Will you name the yappy day, my darlin’? Will 
you, my darlin’, name the yappy day? ” 

Martha wiped her eyes and became more composed. 
“ Some time afore we dies, I suppose,’^ she said with a 
disconsolate whimper, “ I canT promise more’n that, 
Adam Bate — an’ don’t ee see the kettle bilin’.” 


CHAPTER XXII 


When Ned Blackborough left Cwmfairnog he left be- 
hind him also the very desire for dreams. He remained 
simply a rich man with no wants save for what wealth 
can bring. All the rest — the capacity for imagination 
inclusive — was mere moonshine. For the first time in his 
life the pompous luxury of New Park did not offend 
him, he drank a bottle of ludicrously high-priced cham- 
pagne for supper, he smoked a good many ludicrously 
highly-drugged cigarettes, not as he generally did almost 
unconsciously, but of set purpose, taking a solid joy in 
the fuddled state to which they reduced him. 

He woke, of course, with a headache next morning, and 
having had breakfast he looked at his bank-book, a thing 
he had not done for months. It was not exactly exhilarat- 
ing to a man who had just made up his mind to enjoy 
what he could as a millionaire ! 

But, even as he looked at the balance, something in 
him rose up and mocked at him. How long would this 
phase last 1 How long could this pompous acquiescence in 
wealth as a means of pleasure last ? How could eyes that 
had once seen, ears that had once heard, remain blind and 
deaf to the only realities, the only pleasures of life? 

He put the question aside in an attempt to find any- 
thing but party in the politics of the morning paper, and 
coming to the conclusion that they were synonymous 
terms, he ordered the motor and went round to Egworth 
to St. Helena’s Hospital. Woods, the little secretary, al- 
ways had a tonic effect on him, and he really wanted to 
see how things had been going on in his absence. He 
found the secretary’s office full up with business, and 
little Wood’s face keener than ever. 

262 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


263 


It is going on all right, sir, and I have kept strictly 
to the lines you laid down; but it involves a good 
deal of — of tact and correspondence ” — he pulled a file 
towards him and fingered it. “ This, for instance, con- 
tains nothing but applications to me personally for fairly 
fair contracts of sorts, based on secret commission. These 
I answer myself, as the firms sending the suggestions are 
really quite respectable. The minor tradesmen, and all 
applications made through the servants I leave to the 
clerks. ’ ’ 

“ You leave to the clerks,’’ echoed Ned thoughtfully, 
‘‘ and some, no doubt, never come into the office at all.” 

Woods shrugged his high shoulders, “ One can expect 
nothing else. It is impossible to gauge the extent to 
which dislike to what they call “ splitting ” obtains 
amongst domestic servants. They will never tell on an- 
other. A great many of them, of course, refuse these 
monstrous suggestions for taking toll, but they would 
never dream of speaking to their employers about them, 
as they should.” He sighed impatiently. “ But what 
can you expect? Where are the fundamental principles 
of fair dealing taught in England ? Nowhere ! ’ ’ 

“ Hullo, Woods! ” remarked Ned with a laugh, 
“ Don’t throw over ‘ caveat emptor.^ It is the founda- 
tion stone of England’s power.” Then he frowned. “ By 
the way, how are the men down at Biggie getting on — 
you gave them their wage every week for a month, I 
suppose ? ” 

“ I did,” replied Woods gravely, “ There is a lot of 
distress down there. You see it is not like a strike ; you 
have definitely closed the works and paid forfeit on con- 
tracts. So the unions won’t help. Some of these men 
have drifted away; but the trade is slack all over Eng- 
land. I won’t say because of dumping; but the fact 
remains. It is slack.” 

Lord Blackhorough looked at his secretary narrowly. 
“ Woods! ” he said, “ what would you do? ” 

The keen face lit up. “Do,” he echoed, “ I know 
what I should dearly like to do— try an experiment. 


264 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


There are a lot of clever men in that factory, your lord- 
ship ; I should lend them the capital to run the concern 
at one and a half per cent, interest, and — and await the 
result. Either way it would be an object-lesson. ’’ 

‘ ‘ It would pay me, ’ ’ said Lord Blackborough, ‘ ‘ if the 
state of affairs is to remain as bad as it has been. I ’ll — 
I’ll see about it, Woods. Then I may take it that the hos- 
pital is really working on the lines I laid down ? ’ ’ 

Woods coughed. “ We are all very much on the look- 
out for fraud, your lordship,” he said meekly, ” but 
there must always be a percentage of error, so long as 
every one wishes to coin his neighbour into golden sov- 
ereigns. ’ ’ 

“And that will be always. Woods,” remarked Lord 
Blackborough with a laugh, “ I believe it to be an en- 
trancing occupation, and I mean to try it myself.” 

He sought out Helen after this, and found her also up 
to the ears in business. 

“ It is a terrible responsibility, Ned,” she remarked, 
“ and I am afraid I have to deluge poor Mr. Woods with 
references ; but really I cannot trust to any one — I mean 
outside the hospital. Within it we are a picked lot and 
we do — fairly well. ’ ’ 

The doubtful praise fell almost wearily from her lips. 

“And how is No. 36? ” he asked. 

She brightened up. “ Going on. Sister Ann says, 
splendidly. Dr. Ramsay operated on him a fortnight 
after we started, and it was a complete success. The 
doctors from St. Peter’s were over seeing him yesterday, 
and even they allowed it was splendid. ’ ’ 

“And how about the expenses; will the parents pay 
anything reasonable for board? ” 

She shook her head. “ ]\Ir. Woods says you cannot 
expect it. You see the children get their education free, 
very often their dinners free ; so why shouldn ’t they get 
cured by charity? There isn’t much responsibility left 
to poor parents now-a-days. It — it doesn’t pay.” 

“And Ramsay? ” asked Ned with a smile. “ I hope 
his shirts are in decent order.” 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


265 

She flushed up a brilliant carmine. “ Has Dr. Ram- 
say been complaining? ” she asked. 

Great heavens above ! No ! ’ ’ exclaimed Ned aghast. 
‘ ‘ Has it come to that ? — no — I haven ’t seen him yet. ’ ’ 

“ Perhaps you had better ask him yourself,” she said 
coldly. Then she looked at him. “And about yourself., 
Ned. You’ve told me nothing.” 

‘ ‘ Because, dear, ’ ’ he replied lightly, ‘ ‘ there is nothing 
to tell. By the way, have you heard that Aura Graham 
married my friend Ted Cruttenden on Valentine’s Day? 
You hadn’t? Well, it’s a fact anyhow; and she has just 
lost her grandfather.” 

“ Ned! ” she cried rising in swift sympathy, “ I — I 
am so sorry.” 

“ Yes! it is rather sad,” he remarked coolly. “ Of 
course it breaks up that jolly little unconventional home. 
By J ove ! I daresay it will have to be sold ; and in that 
case I shouldn’t mind buying it. It would remind me 
of rather a jolly time.” 

His insouciance silenced her, and he went off on his 
tour of inspection to Sister Ann, whom he found in the 
convalescent ward, very spic and span, very precise and 
satisfled. 

“ He has not had a single drawback,” she said 
glancing complacently at No. 36, who lay looking like an 
angel for virtue on a wheeled bed. “If he goes on like 
this, he will be discharged in a month at most. Of course 
he will not be quite sound; he is too radically disease- 
sodden for that, but he will be able to make his own living 
and ” 

‘ ‘ And marry, ’ ’ put in Lord Blackborough calmly. ‘ ‘ It 
is altogether a most satisfactory business. ’ ’ 

Sister Ann looked at him doubtfully. “ So far as I 
am concerned it is so, certainly. I disclaim responsibility 
after a patient leaves my hospital.” 

“ My dear Sister Ann,” laughed Lord Blackborough, 
“ I disclaim all responsibility for anything. It is the 
only possible way of feeling moral. 

He found Dr. Ramsay looking a trifle egare in a room 


266 


A SOVEREIGN REAIEDT 


of surpassing tidiness. Helen’s hand was visible also in 
the doctor’s dress. He had nothing but good to report 
in every way except that he had found it extremely diffi- 
cult to ensure a supply of absolutely undeniable drugs. 

“ It is not that any one deliberately means to cheat, 
but that the real thing is so difficult to get, ’ ’ he remarked 
ruefully. “ You see, if a fellow sells wine or spirits that 
isn ’t genuine he can be run in ; but you may kill half a 
dozen babies by selling stale ipecacuhana wine or any 
other filth and no one asks questions.” 

He was loud in praise of his assistants, the secretary, 
Sister Ann. Each and all were first-class. 

“And Helen — Mrs. Tresillian, I mean? ” asked Ned 
drily, “ I hope she is satisfactory as matron.” 

Peter Ramsay’s face showed a trifle more colour. 
“ Satisfactory,” he echoed, “ she is more than satisfac- 
tory! Do you know — ” his voice sank to an almost awed 
tone — “ I believe she looks after my — my underclothes 
herself. ’ ’ 

Ned Blackborough burst into a roar of laughter. 

‘ ‘ My poor Peter ! ” he said, ‘ ‘ vested interests again ! 
It ’s too bad ! ’ ’ Then he sobered down and looked quite 
gravely at the doctor, who was laughing too. 

“ Ramsay,” he said, “ why don’t you ask my cousin 
to marry you ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I asked her yesterday, ’ ’ replied the doctor gloomily. 

“ The devil you did! ” ejaculated Ned. Vaguely all 
this interested him, made him forget himself. “ What 
did she say? ” 

Peter Ramsay got up and walked about the room. 
“ What did she say? It is an odd thing, Blackborough, 
what different ideas people have about love. I used to 
think it was a kind of fever that would yield to strict 
diet, and a saline treatment. It isn’t. At least some- 
thing which has got mixed up in it may be so ; but — now 
on the other hand your cousin, who is a sensible woman, 
mind you, seems to me somehow to have got hold of the 
wrong end of the stick. She thinks — oh ! hang it all I 
can’t go vivisecting what she thinks — it’s bad enough to 


A SOVBBEIGJV REMEDY 


267 


do it for oneself — but because she can’t at nine-and- 
twenty feel the same — yes ! I ’ll say it — purely physical 
attractiop for me that she felt for that poor sick man 
at nineteen, she says that it is a desecration for any one 
even to speak of marriage to her. I often wish the good 
women of the world could be made to understand how 
purely evanescent that sort of thing is, for how little it 
counts in the aggregate sum of life. Here is Helen — Mrs. 
Tressilian — giving it first place, while other good women 
relegate it to the nethermost hell; and all the while they 
prate about love with a big L. ’ ’ 

“ My dear Ramsay,” remarked Ned, “ I’ll give you 
ten thousand a year to go about the country and preach 
your views — and I ’ll give you a thousand extra for every 
woman you convert to them.” 

“ Quite safe,” assented Hr. Ramsay with a growl. “ I 
should be lynched before my first quarter’s salary was 
due. ’ ’ 

Meanwhile you will stick to it — and manage? ” 

“ Oh! I’ll manage all right. I have an A1 prescrip- 
tion for the febrile part of the disease — I — I should like 
to give it to you ” 

The red brown eyes looked into the blue ones. “ Yes! ” 
replied Ned coolly, ‘‘ she has married the other fellow 
because, no doubt, love seemed to her to be the devil. 
You are about right, Ramsay. Women are impayahle 
in that connection. Good-bye.” 

He tried to amuse himself in a thousand ways that 
afternoon, but they all failed, so he took to business the 
next day, and went back to New Park in the evening and 
drank another bottle of champagne and smoked still more 
cigarettes. 

The next day brought him a letter in an unknown 
hand. Was it a man’s or a woman’s, he wondered. A 
woman’s surely, since the black-edged envelope smelt 
horribly of scent as he opened it. 

Aura Cruttenden! The signature gave him quite a 
shock. The idea of her using either black-edged paper or 
scent revolted him, but the letter was — passable. 


268 


A SOTEEEION REMEDY 


“ Dear Ned,” it ran, “ I suppose I ought to call you 
Lord Blackborough, but I can’t. I shall never forget 
you. You have taught me, I think, everything I know 
that ’s worth knowing. Perhaps ever so long ago you and 
I were the same Amoeba. What are we going to be in 
the end. That is the question. Don’t — don’t quarrel 
with us, please. — Yours, 

‘‘ Aura Cruttenden.” 

Don’t quarrel! ” That was all very well; but what 
else was there to do? It was impossible for him to go 
on drinking champagne and smoking cigarettes till he 
died. 

Finally, he tried London and a round of the theatres 
and music-halls. He amused himself immensely and was 
never for one instant content. He played bridge at the 
club, and went no trumps until a choleric old gentleman 
remarked that it was no wonder he had such a dislike 
to the Day of Judgment. Whereupon he laughed and 
played no more. Then he sought out Mr. Hirsch, and 
went gold-bugging in the city, but after dining en petit 
comite with many Jews, Turks, Infidels and Heretics at 
every smart set restaurant in London, at every one of 
which Mr. Hirsch called the waiters by their names as 
if they were his own servants, he gave it up in sheer 
disgust, and tried to feel an interest in the Grand Na- 
tional, even to the extent of allowing himself to bet free- 
ly with his friends. He did everything in fact that a 
man can do to please himself, short of buying cheap or 
dear kisses; and even that he might have done, being 
for the time quite reckless, but for the fact he was soul- 
weary of womanhood, her ways and works. Finally he 
went back to Blackborough and felt the first really keen 
and natural emotion of which he had been capable for a 
month, when he met Ted Cruttenden by chance in the 
street. 

I hope your wife is quite well,” he said sedately, 
feeling then and there a desire to throttle his successful 
rival. It was a most wholesome feeling, he recognised, 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


269 


for it sent the blood coursing through his veins once more 
in honest antagonism to something of which he disap- 
proved. Ted seemed to feel this antagonism pierce 
through him, decorously dressed in a black business suit 
though he was, for he said hurriedly — “ Oh! all right. 
Won’t you come into the office for a moment. I — I 
should like to speak to you.” 

Ned, regarding himself once more from the outside, 
felt vaguely amused, and acquiesced. 

Of course,” began Ted, for his part feeling abso- 
lutely a somewhat ill-used and thoroughly misunderstood 
man, ‘ ' I know the whole affair must seem, as it were un- 
derhand; but — ” he looked doubtfully at his companion 
as if uncertain how much he knew, before resolving on 
the whole truth as safest. “ I suppose you know now, 
or guess, that when you came here last Aura and I 
were engaged. Well ! it was so. Your coming and 
telling me you had asked her, put me in an awful hole 
for I had no right, on my part, to tell you — anything. 
The whole affair was strictly private, I hope you under- 
stand.” 

' ‘ I understand that you wished it to be private, ’ ’ re- 
marked Ned clearly. 

‘ ‘ It had to be, my dear fellow, ’ ’ replied Ted eagerly. 

To begin with, we were engaged rather hurriedly in 
order to please her grandfather — chiefly; and I — I felt 
I had no right to presume on it; it might never have 
come to anything. It couldn’t for a long time, for I 
wasn’t in a position to marry.” Here his face fell, and 
he threw down the pen with which he had been fiddling 
in sudden impatience. ‘ ‘ For the matter of that, I ’m not 
in it now. These confounded interruptions have played 
the dickens, and we shall have to begin in a small way ; 
for she hasn’t a penny. The place is over-mortgaged 
and even the furniture has to be sold. In fact, if it 
doesn’t realise a decent price, I might be let in. Where 
was I? Oh! yes. Then in February, just as I was in 
the throes of a really good thing, I was telegraphed for 
again. I had been down twice before, and really, only 


270 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


because the old man was not satisfied, that we would keep 
to our engagement. So he paused. 

“ WelH ” remarked Ned. 

“ I took down a marriage license with me — it was ab- 
solutely necessary, you see, that I should get away again 
as soon as I could, and I thought, if the worst came to 
the worst, it would calm the old man to feel that we were 
married. So you see there was no time to give any one 
any notice. ’ ’ 

And you were married,^’ remarked Ned again in the 
same clear, hard voice. 

“ Yes! The rector married us in the old man’s room, 
with Martha and him as witnesses, half an hour before I 
started. That is really the whole story — exactly how it 
came about.” 

“ And you went back, when? ” asked Ned Blackbor- 
ough quickly. 

‘ ‘ I never went back. It was awfully important that I 
should have a free hand, and that is how it came — about 
the telegrams, I mean — I had purposely left no ad- 
dress ” 

The tapping of Ned’s stick on the floor, which had been 
going on as he sat, his elbow on his knees, listening, 
ceased. ‘ ‘ Then you mean to say, ’ ’ he said slowly, rising 
as he spoke, “ that when I saw — Aura — the other day — 

she ” Suddenly he laughed — Good-bye, Ted; 

you’re not a bad sort of a chap on the whole — but you 
have the devil’s own luck! If I had only known — if I 
had guessed that she ” His voice rose in sudden an- 

ger, then paused. What was the good ? 

“ Are you going to finish your sentence. Lord Black- 
borough ? ’ ’ flared up Ted in anger also. 

‘‘ Yes! ” replied Ned without an instant’s hesitation, 
reverting to his usual tone, “ I am going to finish it. I 
am going to tell you the truth — though you haven’t told 
it to me. There is no use in your not facing it, man. 
Aura doesn’t by right belong to you — ^she belongs to me. 
If I’d known then — ^when I was at Cwnfairnog, I mean 
— what I know now, I — I should have tried to take her 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


271 


away from all your cursed money-getting even then. It’s 
different now ... if you make her happy. And if you 
don ’t — I — I won ’t be such a fool again ! That ’s fair and 
square and above board. So — good-bye ! ’ ’ 

As he walked through the streets once more, he felt 
that this was the last straw. Why had he not made her 
understand herself? Why had he not carried her off 
then and there to Avilion? Truly, he was cursed as a 
fool. He ought to have known, he ought to have guessed, 
he ought to have understood. 

So, as he wandered aimlessly through the city, looking 
with a lack-lustre eye upon all its hideous sights and 
sounds, having in his ears the silly giggles of girls as they 
crowded round the shop windows, having in his eyes an 
endless procession in those windows, of hats and gar- 
ments, and flowers and frocks, and fal-lals set there by 
i men as a bait to the only barter which is allowed to 
womanhood without restraint, he told himself that he 
I would have done right if he had carried her away from 
1 contamination to that island in the southern seas, where 
I she would have lived to rear his children and be. . . . 
i Ye Gods! What should she not have been? 

For an instant he caught a glimpse of reality, and then 
, the Dream of Life was his again; but though the Dan- 
; cer of the World had on all the charms of money and 
! civilisation and culture, her dancing did not hold his 
1 eyes. 

i That evening he went over to the hospital and found 
I Helen, darning away busily at something which she has- 
j tily thrust into her work-basket as he came in. Vested 
; interests, of course ! 
j ‘‘I am going away, Helen,” he said. 

I Going away,” she echoed. Why, Ned! you have 

only just come back. My dear! I do wish you — you 
would settle down.” 

“ That was exactly what I came to say to you,” he re- 
plied. “ Helen! why won’t you marry Ramsay? You 
you are not likely to find a better fellow, or one whom — 
i you like better. Why not marry him, instead of darning 


272 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


his underclothes on the sly ? ’ ’ He pointed to the work- 
basket. 

‘ ‘ My duty as a matron, ’ ’ she began, flushing gloriously. 

“ That will be cold comfort by-and-by,” he replied 
kindly. ‘ ‘ Your duty as mater would be more satisfying. ’ ’ 

Helen held her breath for a moment, then it exhaled 
in a little childless sigh. 

“ That is true, Ned,’’ she said quietly, “ but when a 
woman knows what Love is, she cannot give herself with- 
out it. And Love comes but once to a woman; at any 
rate it will only come once to me. ’ ’ 

“ I wonder,” said Ned reflectively, what womanhood 
would be like if one were to pound down every one who 
possessed it in a mortar and fashioned them afresh. Well ! 
I am off — for six months. ’ ’ 

Where? ” 

I will say India this time,” he replied cheerfully. 
“ Then my letters can be forwarded to Algiers — 

but ” this he added, seeing her remonstrant face — 

“ I will leave my address with my agents, so you can 
write through them if anything is wanted — but it won’t 
be wanted. The world gets on as well without me, as I 
get on without the world.” 

He went round afterwards to the secretary’s office. 

How much capital do you think they would require 
to run that factory on co-operative lines ? ” he asked. 

Woods shook his head. 

“ More — more than you ought to afford. Lord Black- 
borough,” he replied evasively; “ I can’t keep the ex- 
penses down as I should wish, even here.” 

Have you enough to go on with? ” 

Plenty — but ” 

Then work out a scheme, please, for the other and 
have it ready against my return. And — and stop a bit ! 
There is a place in Wales — I’ll write it down — coming 
in to the market before long. Buy it in, furniture and 
all. And if the woman who is in charge — Martha’s her 
name — ^wants to stop on — let her stop. I am off to — to 
India — for six months. ’ ’ 


CHAPTER XXIII 


Did Ned Blackborough go to India, seeking dreams at 
the feet of some entranced immobile ascetic, hidden away 
even from the sunshine of the world under the shade of 
the bo-tree ? Did he go to Algiers and seek for them in 
the desert among the pathless dunes, where every step 
is covered by the eternally-restless, eternally-recurring 
wind-writing of the sand ripples ? Or remaining closer at 
hand did he, in some remote Cornish village seek to hear 
the secret of dreams that is told unceasingly in the roar 
and the hush of the sea ? Or on the eternal snows, which 
dominate all Europe in its hurry and its hunt for gold, 
which look out with cold eyes on its civilisation, its cul- 
ture, its crime, did he find what he sought hemmed in 
by calm glaciers, frozen, ice-bound ? 

The one would have served his purpose quite as well 
as another; that being the putting in of time in a man- 
ner which did not offend his sensibilities ; for, as he told 
himself often, he was fast becoming a crank. 

The world, as it was, did not amuse him very much; 
it seemed to him hopelessly vulgar, even in its highest 
ideals for individual success and individual culture. 

Wherever he went, and as to that none but himself 
knew, he returned as usual, punctual to a day. It was 
early October therefore, when, a little thinner, consider- 
ably browner, he found himself walking down Accacia 
Road West, Blackborough, looking for No. 10, that being 
the address where he was told the Cruttendens lived. 

He was going to see if Aura was happy. Viewed from 
the outside this appeared unlikely, for Accacia Road was 
not, so to speak, exhilarating, though it was broad and 
open enough, with the usual wide asphalt pavement at 
273 


274 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


either side, and a rather new-looking well-swept road, all 
too large apparently for the requirements of the sparse- 
wheeled traffic, in the middle. Possibly the inhabitants 
of the desirable residences, many of which were still to 
let, had contemplated being carriage people and had 
failed of their intention. 

As it was, it had a distinctly desolate air. At intervals ' 
of some thirty feet upon the pavement stood little pol- \ 
larded lime-trees, each apparently glued to and sup- ■ 
ported by yard-wide gratings of cast iron, encircled by ; 
the mystic legend “ Blackborough Municipal Board. ; 
The trees stood on their iron bases firmly, just as the 
green-shaving ones in the boxes of Dutch toys do on their ^ 
wooden roundels, and Ned felt impelled by a desire to 
lift one up and set it down again skew-fashion, just out 
of the straight line, so as to break the interminable regu- ^ 
larity which made him feel as if he must go on and on • 
to the very end. And where that might be only Heaven ,] 
knew ; beyond mortal sight anyhow. 

Then, mercifully, the very quaintness of that iron pris- ! 
on-window of a grating, between root and leaf, drew his 1 
thoughts away at a tangent, and he became immersed in ! 
an imaginary argument between them. 

Between the white-feeling fibrelet, down in the dark- 
ness of Earth mother’s breast, the small sightless seeker ! 
supplying the leaves with all things, and clamouring in ] 
return for the whisper of blue skies, fresh breezes, sing- 
ing birds, and the smoke-dimmed foliage which had no - 
tale to tell save of smuts, tradesmen’s carts, electric , 
trams, and babies’ perambulators. J 

It was the number on one of the gates, uniform in size, ' 
structure, and colour — which occurred, like the gratings, 
at regular intervals — that made him pause at last, and 
look curiously at the house beyond it. ;; 

Impossible ! 

It was frankly impossible that Aura, living there, could ; 
be happy; although, no doubt, it was what is called by ^ 
auctioneers a “ most superior and desirable family resi- 
dence. ’ ’ Semi-detached, it had a carriage sweep belong- 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


275 


ing to both houses, which trended away from a gate with 
“ No. 10, Fernlea ’’ upon it, past one bow-window, one 
front door, two bow windows, another front door, and a 
final bow-window to the further gate with its “ No. 11, 
Heatherdale. ” Which was superfluous; the number or 
the name? 

There was a butcher’s trundle, with Hogg upon it in 
gold letters, standing at one gate, a butcher’s trundle 
with Slogg upon it at the other ; and as Ned Blackborough 
turned in, two butcher boys, each with flat baskets on 
their blue Jinen arms, passed out from the little narrow 
green lattice- work doors, which filled up the space between 
Fernlea on the one side and Heatherdale on the other, 
and the high garden walls which separated each couple of 
superior residences from their neighbouring couples. 
The boys took no notice of each other, being dignified 
rivals. 

How could Aura be happy, thought Ned, in an envir- 
onment where the only possibility of differentiating 
yourself from your neighbour was by employing Slogg 
instead of Hogg? 

The door was opened to him by what is called a su- 
perior house-parlourmaid, a young person of lofty man- 
ners, frizzed hair, and much starch. 

“Wot nyme? ” she asked, superciliously. 

“ Lord Blackborough.” 

Sudden awe left her hardly any voice for the necessary 
announcement, and she fled back precipitately to the 
kitchen. ‘ ' Cookie ! ’ ’ she exclaimed, sinking into a chair. 
“ Did you ever! Lord Blackborough, ’im as owns half 
the town an’ is as rich as Crees’ is — whoever Crees may 
be ! — is in the parlor — such a real gent to look at too. 
And that ain’t all. Missus called ’im ‘ Ned! ’ It’s for 
all the world like that lovely tale in the Penny Cupid I 
was reading last night in bed, only he was a h ’earl. ’ ’ Her 
pert eyes grew tender ; she sighed. 

“ Did she now,” said Cookie, a lazy-looking, fat lump 
of a girl, much of the same type. “ Poor master ! an’ he, 
if you like, is a good-lookin’ fellar; but I always did say 


276 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


she wasn^t no lady. She haven’t any lace on her under- 
clothes — at least none to speak of. ’ ’ 

Meanwhile, after her first glad incredulous cry of 
“ Ned,” Aura had hastily thrust away her work and 
risen. 

As she came forward, a world of welcome in her face, 
in her outstretched hands, Ned Blackborough realised by 
his swift sense of disappointment how much — despite his 
own asseverations to the contrary — he had counted on 
unhappiness. 

Truly women were kittle cattle. Truly it was ill proph- 
esying for the feminine sex ! 

She was happy, radiantly happy. Her face, if thinner, 
was infinitely more vivid; if less beautiful in a way it 
was far more alive. It was this which struck him — the 
vitality of it — its firm grip on life — its almost exuberant 
power. It seemed to him as if two souls, two minds, two 
hearts looked out at him from her eyes. 

He was no fool. He understood the position in a mo- 
ment ; he knew that love was worsted. 

“ So you are quite happy,” he said, still holding her 
hand. 

Happy? ” she echoed. ‘‘ Oh, Ned! I have never 
been so happy in all my life — everything seems so new, 
everything seems to go on and on for ever, as if there was 
no end to interest and pleasure. ’ ’ 

“I am glad,” he said lamely, then added, “ I 
shouldn ’t have thought ” . 

She followed his eyes, which had wandered to an elec- 
tric blue paper covered with gigantic poppies of a deeper 
hue, with a frieze in which positively Brobdingnagian 
flowers, presumably of the same species, curled them- 
selves in contortions terribly suggestive of a bad pain in 
their insides. 

“ Yes! isn’t it awful? ” she admitted with a laugh; 

but I have taken all the furniture you see out of this 
room and stuffed it away in another empty one for the 
present ” — an odd shy smile showed on her face, and 
seating herself on a stool once more she took up her work 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


277 


again and recommenced tucking a piece of muslin with 
new-born skill ; for in the old days she had never touched 
a needle. “ And it isn’t quite so bad here at the back 
where one can’t see people. But I wish my poor prim- 
roses would grow. I got them in a wood not so very far 
away, but the cats won’t give them a chance — ^they 
scratch them up at night, poor things ! ” Her eyes were 
sorrowfully on the parallelogram of grass, gravel, and 
smut-blackened stems below the flight of grimy steps, 
which was described in the house-agent’s list as a charm- 
ing garden. “ If it happens again I shall take them back. 
It is never fair to keep anything where it can’t grow 
properly. ’ ’ 

Exactly so, ’ ’ he thought ; but her face showed abso- 
lute unconsciousness. 

“ What do you And to do with yourself? ” he asked 
suddenly. He felt he would go mad in a week. 

‘ ‘ Do ! ’ ’ — she smiled. ‘ ‘ Why, I never have half 
enough time! You see we can’t alford to keep experi- 
enced servants, as yet. This house is really beyond our 
income, but my husband — Ted, I mean — was afraid I 
should not thrive in the town. It is very good of him, 
isn’t it? to go to such expense for me.” 

Very,” assented Lord Blackborough, recognising 
Ted ’s phraseology and feeling bored. 

So I have to do most of the cooking,” she went on 
quite eagerly. ‘ ^ It is rather fun, though Ted is quite aw- 
fully particular about his food. But he says I am getting 
quite a — a cordon hleue — that’s right, isn’t it? ” 

Quite right,” assented Ned gravely. He was begin- 
ning to wonder how he should get away from this at- 
mosphere of satisfaction. 

' ‘ And then, ’ ’ she went on, and whether she smiled or 
was grave he could not tell, for her face was bent over 
her work, ‘‘ I have so much to think of — you cannot 
know how much. Sometimes I feel as if, somehow, the 
whole world was bound up in me. ” 

For the life of him he could not help a thrill in an- 
swer to the thrill of her voice. So he sat looking at her 


278 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


sewing garments for another man’s child, until his heart 
waxed hot, and he said — 

“ Has it never struck you, Aura, that all this is — just 
a little rough on me? ” 

She looked up at him, her beautiful eyes, twin stars 
of mysterious double life, brimming with swift tears. 

“ You — you shall be its godfather,” she said softly. 

He could have cursed, he could have laughed, he could 
have cried over the pure ridiculousness of the reply ; but 
the pure motherhood in her eyes was too much for 
him. 

“ The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof.” 
The phrase came back to his memory, reproving his in- 
dividualism, setting aside all other claims as trivial. 

“ Well! ” he said, rising as he spoke, “ there is noth- 
ing more to be said. So — having found you happy — I 
must be going.” 

“ Going,” she echoed incredulously. “ Oh, no! You 
must stop and see Ted. It is Saturday and he is always 
home by three. You might stop and come with us to 
Chorley Hill; we go there every week because I like it. 
You can see the Welsh mountains quite distinctly if it is 
clear. ’ ’ 

Her eyes were clear anyhow. She was her old self 
again in her eagerness ; the girl free, unfettered in every 
way, who had tramped those Welsh mountains with him 
so often. He could see her with the wind blowing 
amongst her bronze, uncovered curls, billowing amongst 
the folds of her white linen overall. Why did she wear 
black now ? To save the washing bills he expected. And 
she spent her life chiefly, no doubt, in buying a herring 
and a half for three halfpence ! She, who had never seen 
a sixpence ! A flood of annoyed pity swept through him 
at the needlessness of the desecration, rousing his antag- 
onism once more. 

As it is just on three now,” he replied, ‘‘ I’ll stop 
and see him anyhow. ’ ’ 

It might be wiser, he felt. It would be a thing got 
over, which, after the abruptness of their last parting. 


A SOYEREia:Sf REMEDY 


279 

was desirable ; though, on the whole, he was inclined to 
have done with it all, to congratulate Ted on his success, 
and renounce all claim on a woman who had evidently 
forgotten love in motherhood — and housekeeping. 

He felt very bitter; though the question as to whether 
she could be more content forced itself upon him rudely. 

“ There he is! ” cried Aura joyfully, as in the jerry- 
built house the grating noise of a latch-key in the front 
lock became distinctly audible at the back. “Ill run 
and tell him you are here, and then I can change my 
dress before we start.” 

It w^ on the whole a relief that they two — men who 
were rivals — should meet without the cause of the ri- 
valry being present also. Though magnanimity was the 
only card to play. What else was possible when you 
could distinctly hear the cause of rivalry being kissed in 
the hall? 

Ned Blackborough, therefore, was frankness itself. 
“ How are you, Ted? I won’t say I’m glad, but I do 
find Aura very well, and very happy — so — ^so that ends 
it, I suppose. ’ ’ 

Ted, who was also looking the picture of health and 
happiness, flushed up with pleasure, and gripped Lord 
Blackborough ’s hand effusively. “ Upon my soul, Ned,” 
he cried, “ you are just an awfully good sort — one of the 
best fellows living ; and I feel I Ve been a bit of a beast. 
Only you don’t know how the thought that we should 
have fallen out over this thing has worried me. It is real 
good to have you back again. And she is happy, isn’t 
she ? — bless her heart ! though why she should have kept 
you in this horrid bare room at the back, I can’t think. 
Come into the drawing-room, old man, it is something 
like. But it isn ’t a bad house, is it ? Par too expensive, 
of course, but ” 

Afloat on finance, Ted’s conscious virtue overflowed 
like a cold douche on Ned’s patience, which had almost 
succumbed under explanations that, after all, he “ was 
getting along, but that it was safer — especially with ex- 
penses ahead — to have a wide margin, ’ ’ when Aura reap- 


280 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


peared. She was wearing the white coat and skirt, the 
brown Tam-o ’-Shanter in which she had gone to Plas 
Afon. Ned used often to say that in his last incarnation he 
must either have been a woman or a man milliner ; now he 
recognised without effort, that not only had Aura knotted 
the Mechlin scarf about her neck but that she also car- 
ried the sables over her arm. So she also remembered. 

The fact decided him in an instant. “ Let me take 
those, ’ ’ he said coolly. She looked conscious as she gave 
up the furs, and remarked hurriedly, ‘‘We can walk 
there, Ted ; but we might return by the five-thirty train 
from Elsham.” 

‘ ‘ Then I ’ll wire for the motor to meet me there, ’ ’ re- 
plied Ned. “ It is only six miles to New Park and there 
is no object in my going round by Blackborough again; 
besides there is always a wait at the junction. ’ ’ 

It seemed to him an interminable time before they left 
the lingering outskirts of the town behind them, and 
even when the last bow-window and gable tailed down 
into the original four-square cottage, the country about 
was still grime-clad, smut-bound. But Aura did not ap- 
pear to notice it. In her eyes sat eternal hope, eternal 
spring, which finds the old world good. 

Even when they sat finally on the sand-set bit of com- 
mon, interspersed with straggly heath and unkempt gorse 
which was all the nature that Chorley Hill boasted, she 
did not seem to see the copious orange peel, the screws 
of sandwich paper which, to Ned’s fastidiousness made 
the place horrible. Her eyes were on the distances where 
the Welsh hills showed blue. 

“ How I would love to see Cwmfaernog again! ” she 
said suddenly, “ you know, of course, the poor place 
had to be sold. Ted very nearly had to pay ’ 

Lord Blackborough cut short her repetition. “ But 
he didn’t,” he remarked, “ for I bought it.” 

“You bought it,” she echoed incredulously; “ Ted 
never told me that. ’ ’ She glanced to her husband, who, 
flat on the sand with his hat over his eyes, was apparently 
asleep in the sunshine. The attitude discovered the fact 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


281 


that six months of happy married life — and, no doubt, 
Aura’s cooking — had made him perceptibly larger in 
the waist. He was evidently following Mr. Hirsch’s ex- 
ample, thought Ned; though he might, like other folk, 
have grown leaner upon grief ; for Ned, happily, had not 
lost the faculty of mocking at his own troubles. 

‘ ‘ I wonder why he never told me, ’ ’ said Aura, vaguely 
vexed, making Ned — like the fool that he was, he told 
himself — instant in excuse. 

“ He didn’t know, I expect; my agent bought it for 
me. Yes! there it is with Martha and Adam — you know 
they are married® ” 

Aura laughed. ‘‘ Yes 1 I had a letter from Martha say- 
ing she was agreeably disappointed with her lot. That is 
what I am, too ; ” she paused. ‘ ‘ I should love to go there 
again. Will you take me some day? ” 

‘‘ Perhaps,” he replied soberly, while his pulses 
bounded. 

“ May would be the best month for me,” she said 
dreamily. “ Besides there are the wild hyacinths— they 
are like the floor of heaven ! ’ ’ 

The floor of heaven 1 What vague memory was it that 
woke with those words? A blue sea, a ripple on a boat’s 


Then Ted woke also, clamouring for tea. They had 
it at a little inn, and were very merry ; only after a time 
the conversation always seemed to drift away towards 
something to eat, or something to buy. It is always the 
herring or the penny which had to be paid for it. That 
was Ted’s fault. The sum of his life seemed to be made 
up of duodecimal fractions. 

“ We shall have to foot it a bit if we are to catch the 
train,” said Ted gaily as they started^ hold on to me. 
Aura, it ’s a bit slippery down the hill. ” 

So with his arm tucked into hers, and Ned on the other 
side, they made their way talking and laughing. Before 
long however, the talk resolved itself into an argument 
between the two men, Ted defending the action of a cer- 
tain company, Ned stigmatising it as a swindle. 


282 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


“ The short cut over the water-meadow, Aura,” said 
Ted, interrupting himself. ‘ ‘ She is signalled, and it will 
save time.” He drew back as he spoke to let her cross 
the plank-bridge which spanned the ditch and to clinch 
his point. I maintain,” he went on, “ that the pro- 
spectus was as fair as any prospectus can be, for one is 
bound to put on rose-coloured spectacles in writing one, 
or the thing won’t catch on. Men who have money to 
invest ought to know ” 

“ Take care,” cried Ned, who was watching Aura; 
but he was an instant too late. There was a tiny piece of 
orange peel on the plank — the rest of it lay amongst 
the water-cresses in the ditch — her foot slipped on it, and 
she caught at the hand-railing to steady herself, so 
wrenching herself round by a strong effort to avoid drop- 
ping feet foremost into the mud. 

It was quite a small affair, but the shock of it left 
her colourless, half on, half off the plank. 

“ My dearest! ” cried Ted in a fearful fuss, “ you 
aren’t ” 

“ Not a bit,” she interrupted gaily, Give me your 
hand up, please.” But there was a scared, frightened 
look in her eyes, and five minutes afterwards, as they 
were hurrying on, she slackened speed. 

‘‘ We haven’t over much time, my dear,” said Ted 
grudgingly. 

She looked at him almost with reproach. “ I suppose 
it is falling so, so suddenly, ’ ’ she began. 

“ Ted,” interrupted Lord Blackborough, “ I believe 
I’d better take you wife back in the motor. Sorry I 
can ’t take you, but it is only the little De Dion. If you 
run for it you’ll just get it. We shall be home before 
you will, with that wait at the junction.” 

“ You don’t mind, do you, darling? ” asked Ted, so- 
licitously. 

Five minutes afterwards he waved his handkerchief 
from the train at them as they made their way leisurely 
across the water-meadow. 

“ You will be home in half an hour, and have a good 


A SOVUBFIGN^ REMEDY 


283 


rest,” said Ned consolingly, as those beautiful eyes with 
the eternal hope in them looked into his with that vague 
dread growing to them. 

“ Yes,” she said cheerfully, “ it was only the start.” 

But ten minutes later in the car, she laid her hand sud- 
denly on Ned’s as it held the steering gear. 

‘‘ Oh, Ned! ” she said, “ I’m — I’m so afraid! ” Her 
voice was an appeal, and he bent hastily to kiss the hand 
which clung to his, as it would have clung to any human 
being. 

Cheer up ! ” he said huskily, ‘ ‘ Nothing ’s going to go 
wrong! I’ll have you home in no time; so let me steer 
straight, will you? ” 

The little car swept along at top speed. She sat still, 
her face drawn and pale, her hands holding hard to the 
white folds of her dress. 

Twelve miles at least, allowing for speed limits through 
the town, and New Park close at hand; just in fact, 
round the corner. He made the calculation rapidly, and 
began to sound the hooter. 

“ I shall take you in here,” he said decisively, “ and 
telephone to Ted. Then when you’ve had a good rest 
you can go home.” 

The gates, set wide open at his signalling, slipped past 
in the growing dusk, a rabbit or two showed nimble 
across the smooth surface of the drive. 

It will be best, perhaps,” said Aura, with a catch 
in her breath. 

“ Of course it will be best,” he replied cheerfully, as 
he drew up in the wide portico. 

‘ ‘ The housekeeper, please ! ” he called, glad for once 
of the decorous hurry of obedience. “ Take Mrs. Crut- 
tenden, if you please, Mrs. Adgers, and let her rest for 
a little, ’ ’ he said to the dignified lady who appeared as 
if by magic. Then, only waiting to add in a lower voice, 

*' ‘ and look after her ; you understand, ’ ’ he was in the car 
again before it had had time to run down, and was off 
over a short cut to St. Helena’s Hospital, which lay on 
the hill about three miles off. 


284 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


Thence he returned in twenty minutes with Sister Ann, 
leaving Dr. Ramsay to follow more leisurely. 

Finally, having sent the car in charge of a chauffeur to 
bring Ted along, he sat in the library and smoked, feel- 
ing half derisive at the irony of fate. If he had indeed 
been Aura ’s husband, and the father of this coming child, 
what more could he have done ? 

Dr. Ramsay arrived cool and collected and went up- 
stairs. Ted arrived in a terrible state of fuss and also 
went upstairs. Then the house reverted to its usual staid 
routine. The gong sounded at dressing-time, and, clad 
in due decorum, Ned dined alone in the huge red dining- 
room which looked like a big mouth ready to swallow him 
up. The footman, overlooked by the butler, handed him 
the courses gravely, the butler filled his glass with ’98 
Pomeroy. Ned had not asked for it this time, but it was 
considered the proper thing with sudden and serious ill- 
ness in the house. And all the while he was thinking 
how little life and death would affect him, if all these 
things could be swept away, and he be indeed nothing 
more than Carlyle’s forked radish with a consciousness. 

Then he smoked and read again till ten o’clock, when 
the footman, overlooked by the butler, brought the whisky 
and water into the library, and Dr. Ramsay came with it. 

“ I shall want help,” he said, “ but I don’t want to 
alarm him — ^her husband. She is as brave as possible, 
but he — ^so I thought you ” 

‘ ‘ Whom do you want ? ’ ’ asked Ned, going to the tele- 
phone. 

Dr. Ramsay named a London specialist, and Ned 
looked up quickly. 

‘‘ As bad as that? ” he asked. 

‘ ‘ As bad as it can be, I ’m afraid, ’ ’ replied the doctor. 

After the specialist had been summoned and duly 
bribed, there was nothing to do but sit and smoke again, 
since the memory of those beautiful eyes with the eternal 
hope of the world’s immortality in them, haunted him 
beyond the cure of sleep. If he had been her husband, 
could he have done more, could he have felt more? 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


285 


The London man arrived about one o’clock, and Ned, 
after the slight bustle of his coming and going upstairs, 
heard no more noise. The house seemed to settle down 
into the usual silence of night. 

What was going on upstairs? Would she pass into 
the Unseen? Would she settle the question once and for 
all? 

It was just as the red October sunrise was beginning to 
glow through the trees of the park, that Ned, standing 
at the window to watch it, heard the click of the door 
handle behind him, and turned to see the London doctor, 
a tall man with eyeglasses and a stoop. 

Well! ” he said eagerly. ‘‘ How is she? ” 

‘ ‘ As well as can — ah — ah — be expected, ’ ’ said the spe- 
cialist, who appeared to be afflicted with a stammer, ‘ ‘ af- 
ter such a very serious — ah — ah — operation as — ah — ah 
— was necessary to save the — the — the interesting pa- 
tient’s life. But — ah — ah — D.V. it is saved, and — and 
I need hardly say we — we have every reason to be thank- 
ful, even though the future is, or may be — of course ” 

Here Dr. Ramsay entered the room, and he turned to 
him. I was just preparing Mr. Cruttenden for the — 
ah — possibility ’ ’ 

“ This is Lord Blackborough, sir,” interrupted Peter 
Ramsay impatiently. ^ ‘ I told you I had given Mr. Crut- 
tenden a sleeping draught after the immediate danger to 
life was over. Mrs. Cruttenden was brought to Lord 
Blackborough ’s house just after the accident. Now, sir, 
if you are in a hurry they are ready to take you to the 
station. ’ ’ 

Just so — ah! ” murmured the great man, a trifle 
confused. Very pleased to make your acquaintance, 
my lord. Thanks, Doctor — ah ” 

Ramsay,” said the latter, carrying him off still 
blandly stuttering. 

When Peter Ramsay returned he found Ned looking at 
the sunrise once more. The whole sky was growing red, 
the daylight was outpaling the lamp beside which Ned 
had watched for this dawn. 


286 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


Suddenly he spoke. ‘‘Is it worth while, I wonder, 
saving life — sometimes? Considering what motherhood 
means to some women, I doubt it.’’ 

And then without another word he turned from the 
window, and sitting down at the writing-table rested his 
head on his hand, and stared out vacantly into the room, 
seeing nothing but those beautiful eyes, twin stars of 
two souls. 

Those eyes that were never to be satisfied ! No, it was 
not worth it. 

Then he glanced round at the doctor who stood profes- 
sionally silent. “ I’ll give you a piece of advice,” he 
said, “ and then we’ll drop the subject. If you have 
anything to say, tell her, not him. You will make it 
easier for her, I expect, than he will. ’ ’ 


CHAPTER XXIV 


We refuse your terms, your lordship,'’ said the leader 
of the deputation. 

i Outside the manager’s office where the meeting of dele- 
I gates was being held, the works of the Biggie factory lay 
j deserted in the autumn sunlight. There was no sign of 
I harvest there for man or beast. The huge engines seemed 
i asleep, the tall factory chimney showed a cenotaph pro- 
I claiming a dead life. Here and there among the rows of 
workmen’s houses were knots of men despondently ex- 
I pectant, a shrill woman or two voiced her wrongs aggres- 
sively, the children in the gutter looked dirty, unkempt, 
pale. 

Lord Blackborough stared steadily at the speaker. 

Then you hold that I am bound to start these works 
again, despite the fact that they have been running at a 
' loss for some years ; and you hold also that I am bound 
to give you a rise in wages ? ’ ’ 

The men in these works cannot accept a less wage 
j than that received in others which, excuse me, being bet- 
I ter managed, pay their owners well — far too well,” re- 
I plied Mr. Green. He was a singularly able-looking man, 
curiously taut and trim in words, speech, manner, ap- 
parently in soul. 

‘ ‘ Then I am not only to receive no return on my cap- 
ital, but I am to spend other capital in paying you, until 
Germany ceases to make our goods cheaper than we can. 
Is this fair ? ’ ’ asked Lord Blackborough. 

Quite fair, your lordship,” replied the leader; if 
only because the capital you own has been wrung un- 
justly from us — from labour. ’ ’ 

‘‘ All capital must be, as you call it, ‘ wrung ’ from 
287 


288 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


labour. It does not create itself. I offer you this capital 
at a very low rate of interest, one and a half per cent. 
If labour cannot hope to make even so much, over and 
above livelihood, that seems an end to any enlargement 
of trade.” 

There was a pause; then Lord Blackborough smiled. 
“ I cannot complain if the figures before you make you 
hesitate; for to me they are convincing. Let us, there- 
fore, pass over that offer. My next is one to re-open 
the works, but on a different system. An eight-hours’ 
day, piecework, and no limitations of trades-unions or 
any other organisation regarding the out-run of any in- 
dividual. ’ ’ 

A faint stir could be heard amongst some of the older 
men ; but Mr. Green still stood spokesman. 

“ That is absolutely out of the question, your lord- 
ship, ’ ’ he said decisively ; “ we are all of us trades-union 
men. Labour must reserve to itself the right to legis- 
late for the general good of the labourer; if it does not, 
who will? No one! ” His tone grew bitter. “We have 
no right to accept a form of payment which will not 
give a living wage to ” 

‘ ‘ To the weakest, to the bad workmen, the laziest, the 
most drunken,” put in Lord Blackborough. “ Person- 
ally, I do not see any reason at all why that class of 
worker should continue to live. You only have to level 
down to them. But I am not here to combat your views, 
only to receive your ultimatum. You refuse? ” 

Mr. Green brought his hand down on the table with 
dramatic force. 

‘ ‘ In the name of Labour we refuse the unjust, iniqui- 
tous ” 

“ Thank you,” said Lord Blackborough urbanely, 
then turned to the secretary. “ Mr. Woods! Have you 
those documents ready? ” 

“ They are here, your lordship.” Ned Blackborough 
threw off his gravity, and holding the papers given him 
in his hand, smiled round the company, which, as if 
moved thereto by some magic in his manner, rose also. 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


289 

Mr. Green looked from one to the other. What had this 
tyrannical employer of labour up his sleeve? 

“ Men/’ said the employer of labour frankly, I am 
going to pay you with these,” he waved the papers, “ for 
listening to me for five minutes. Labour, they say, is 
dissociating itself from Capital, Capital from Labour. 
That may be so. I have nothing to do with that. Per- 
sonally I have money. I have no work. I don’t want 
money and I do want work. That is my position. 

“ But what I do see here in this England of ours is 
that labour is dissociating itself from work. It is labour- 
ing all day, and bringing forth — as little as it can ! It 
claims the right to do this little. Well! let it if it likes! 
But why should it deny to any man the right to work at 
the rate of which he was born physically capable ? Why 
should it make a swift worker take eight hours to do what 
he can do in four ? If I were to put any one of you on 
oath, you would admit that it is far harder work to 
dawdle through eight hours than to work through eight 
hours. I’ve seen many bricklayers, painters, plasterers 
lately hard put to it how to eke out the time, and yet 
preserve an air of occupation, and I have no doubt you 
have most of you felt this. Now, think what this means. 
It is labour, hard labour \ this, the enslavement of free 
work. Neither body nor mind gain full exercise, muscles 
and brain decay, the type goes down. But this is the sys- 
tem of the day ; we begin it in school, where we let chil- 
dren dawdle eleven years over what they ought to learn 
in half the time. It greets the boy in his first workshop — 
it dogs his footsteps everywhere, turning work into la- 
bour. Work is — is play ! Labour is — is the Devil ! What 
beats me is this. Why, instead of slaving and dawdling, 
shouldn’t the good workman, classed together, of course, 
be allowed to work, say, four hours, and then go their 
way? It would give us some chance of breeding a type 
of Englishman that is now fast dying out, that soon must 
pass away altogether. Men ! don T be fools ! Men ! don ’t 
be slaves. 

“ That is all I have to say. Now for the payment. 


290 


A SOTEREION REMEDY 


This is a free deed of gift of these works, made out, with 
a few necessary legal restrictions, in the name of you del- 
egates, to be held in trust for the workers therein, and 
this is a cheque for the capital necessary to work it for 
six months. I have already signed both. I was so cer- 
tain, you see, that your friend and leader, Mr. Green, ' 
would reject my other very reasonable proposals that I j 
came prepared. Will you take them, Mr. Green? My 
solicitor is here, and you can arrange with him : my part 5 
is done! | 

“ Am I to understand ” almost gasped Mr. Green. | 

Lord Blackborough ’s face sharpened to the keenest \ 
edge of contempt. “Yes! You are to understand, sir, J 
that, tired of being abused up hill and down dale in your S 
organs for behaving like a sensible man, I am behaving ] 
like a fool. Well, men! Labour and Capital have for ' 
once met and kissed each other. See that they don’t ^ 
fall out again ! ” J 

Mr. Green stood with the papers in his hand for a sec- 
ond then he flung them on the table. v 

“You fling our own money to us as if we were dogs ! ” 
he began hotly. 

‘ ‘ Dogs ! ’ ’ echoed Ned Blackborough in the same tone. 

‘ ‘ I would far liefer give it to the dogs than to you — you 
men who will have the handling of it. It is you who 
starved those poor children, not I. Their fathers could 
keep them in comfort for flve-and-twenty shillings a ' 
week ; you made them stand for out six-and- twenty — as if , 
it mattered — as if money, physical comfort, even free- ; 
dom, counted for anything in a man’s search for hap- 
piness. That . ” He pulled himself up quivering, 

feeling the uselessness of speech. “ Come, Woods! ” he ’ 
said, “ it is time I left this Temple of Mammon! Good- f 
day, gentlemen. ’ ’ ^ 

“ That is a clear waste of a hundred thousand 
pounds,” mourned Mr. Woods as they crossed the court- 
yard; “ you can’t get beyond human nature, my lord. ■ 
Each man will naturally go for that gold, the cleverest 
of them will get it, and so capital will re-arise out of its 


A 80VEBEIGW REMEDY 


291 


own ashes. You must begin further down — with the 
children. ^ ’ 

Set up a school, eh? Woods, in which they would 
be taught the truth — that work and play are merely in- 
terchangeable terms for occupation. HuUo! What’s 
up? ” 

A small crowd of women, mostly carrying babies, but 
a few of them carrying baskets, stood at the gates block- 
ing the way. Beyond them waited the motor-car, the 
chauffeur standing at the ready to start. 

Ned Blackborough walked on until he nearly touched 
the first woman. She was better dressed than the rest, 
but who for all that had a coarse, violent face. 

“ Do you want anything? ” he asked quietly. '' If 
you don ’t, you might let me pass. ’ ’ 

Do we want! ” she began in a rhetorical voice. 
'' Yes! we want the bread you have stole from our chil- 
dren. ’ ’ 

“ Why not give them some of your husband’s din- 
ner? ” he replied, pointing to her basket, on the top of 
which lay several knives and forks. There was a tit- 
ter, for she was, in truth, carrying refreshment for Mr. 
Green and his colleagues. She fiushed scarlet. 

“ My husband! ” she echoed. “ Yes! where is the 
money you have stole from our husbands? But you’ll 
find that we aren ’t slaves like the ones you drove in the 
Indies before you were kicked out! The British work- 
people are not to be treated like black niggers or Chinese 
coolies. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Good God ! woman, ’ ’ cried Ned, losing patience, ‘ * if 
you have nothing better to say than to trump up the 
last scurrilous article in the Taskmaster — Here! Woods, 
follow on — I’m not going to be stopped.” 

In an instant they were the centre of a band of ex- 
cited women, the next they were in the car, and the 
chauffeur was running back to take his seat. 

I don’t want to hurt you,” called Ned as he turned 
on power, ‘‘ but if some of you don’t stand back there 
will be an accident ! ’ ’ 


292 


A SOVUBEIGN BE3IEDy 


Cowards! Fools! Don’t let him go without an an- 
swer, ’ ’ shrieked the woman with the basket, who was en- 
tangled two deep in the backward rush. The next mo- 
ment there very nearly was an accident, since, failing of 
all else, the angry orator flung the first thing she could 
lay her hands upon — the handful of knives and forks — 
at the car with her full force, and one of the missiles, a 
three-pronged iron fork, buried itself in the fleshy part 
of Ned’s right hand, as it held the steerer, making him 
and it swerve. 

The fork quivered as he steadied the wheel. Then he 
turned and raised his hat with his other hand. 

“ Thank you! ” he said, and the word fell on a half- 
awed, half-alarmed silence. 

She didn’t mean to do it,” began Woods hurriedly. 
“ Shall I pull it out, my lord? ” 

“ Of course she didn’t,” replied Ned coolly. If she 
had meant to do it, she would have killed a baby. That 
sort of woman is built that way. Wait a bit. Woods, 
till we are through the works. I look like a blessed St. 
Sebastian with it quivering in my flesh ! ’ ’ 

“You ought to have that seen to,” said little Woods 
when the surgical operation was over, and they had had 
to call on the chauffeur handkerchief as well as their 
own. “ It has gone very deep.” 

“I’ll get Ramsay to tie it up properly. We can go 
back by Egworth,” replied Lord Blackborough. 

They met Peter Ramsay on the steps, carrying a leath- 
ern instrument-bag. 

‘ ‘ Come along to my room, ’ ’ he said cheerfully. “ I ’ve 
everything I want in here.” 

As they opened the door a woman’s figure rose hur- 
riedly from an evidently searching inquiry into the con- 
tents of a bottom drawer, for under- vests and stockings 
lay strewn about. 

Both Helen Tressilian and Dr. Ramsay blushed scarlet, 
but Ned ’s eyes twinkled. ‘ ‘ Caught in the act, my dear ! 
Caught in the act ! ” he said amusedly. 

“ I thought — I hoped — he had gone out for a long 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


293 


while on an urgent call/' retorted Mrs. Tressilian, look- 
ing quite viciously at the doctor, who, to hide his vexa- 
tion, was searching in his bag. 

I am sorry I disappointed your expectations, Mrs. 
Tressilian,” he said stiffly, “ but when I arrived I was 
not wanted. The man was dead. ' ’ 

Helen looked as if she had received a blow in the face. 
Her lip quivered. 

Undo these rags, will you? ” said Ned to her kindly, 
wishing in his heart that he could take them and shake 
them together once and for all. “ I haven't much time 
to lose.'' 

She had forgotten her annoyance in sympathy when 
Dr. Ramsay looked up from his task. 

‘‘I’m afraid I shall have to hurt you a bit. I don't 
like those very deep holes, possibly from a dirty 
fork ” 

“ It wasn't very clean,” admitted Ned. 

“ Perhaps I had better call Sister Ann '' began 

the doctor doubtfully, and Helen flushed up in a second. 

“ I have done some work of the kind. Dr. Ramsay,” 
she said; “ but if you prefer ” 

The challenge was too direct. “ If you do not mind, 
I shall be glad, ' ' he replied, bending over a little array of 
instruments on the table. “ Will you stand here. Lord 
Blackborough. Hold the hand so. Nurse Helen, and be 
ready, please, with the carbolised gauze." 

Half-way through Ned winced ; and the doctor said 
sharply, ‘ ‘ That was my fault. Move your hand a little. 
Nurse Helen ; it gets in my way. ' ’ 

“ There! that's done! " he continued at last. “ Now 
for the bandages." 

Was it only fancy, or was Ned Blackborough right in 
thinking that the supple, skilful hands were not quite so 
skilful as usual, that there was an unwonted nervousness 
about them ? 

He pondered over this as, being hurried, he went down- 
stairs, leaving Helen tidying up, Peter Ramsay sterilising 
his instruments before putting them away. He left be- 


294 


A mVEIfEIGN REMEDY 


hind him also a sense of stress in the air, a feeling on the 
part of both those busy people that things could no longer 
go on as they had been going on. Suddenly Peter Ram- 
say flung aside a probe, and walked up to Helen deci- 
sively. 

“ Helen! he said. “ I shall have to go away if you 
won’t marry me. Think me as much a fool as you like — 
the fact remains. You saw — ^you must have seen how dis- 
gracefully I did that simple little thing. Why? Be- 
cause you were there — because your hand touched mine. ’ ’ 

“ I will never offer to interfere with your work 
again ! ’ ’ she said coldly. 

“ Interfere! ” he echoed with a bitter little laugh. 

You always interfere! I feel the very touch of your 
hands upon my clothes. ’ ’ 

A slow crimson stained her very forehead. I am 
sorry, I will never touch them again.” 

“ That will do no good,” he replied gloomily. “ Can 
you not see that your influence touches my life at every 
point? When I go through the wards I hear you have 
just passed, I almost see the flutter of your dress. I 
am always reminded, I am always thinking of you. If 
you will not marry me, I must go away. ’ ’ 

“ I cannot marry you, and I have told you why. It 
is not as though I did not know what love meant. I have 
known it, and — and I do not know it now. But you need 
not go away. I will go.” 

‘ ‘ That, you shall not do, ’ ’ he replied, his chin setting 
itself long and stern. “ Besides it would be no good. 
This place is redolent of you — your goodness, your sweet- 
ness. Oh! Helen, Helen! If you will only marry me, 
love will come — for you like me — I don’t believe there 
is any one you like better — except perhaps Ned Black- 
borough. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Ned ! ’ ’ she echoed, glad of evasion, ‘ ‘ poor Ned ! I 
have had such a curious feeling lately that he is in some 
way maimed; and yet not maimed. I don’t know how 
to express it, but he seems to me to be using his soul more 
and his body less.” 


A SOVBBJSIGN REMEDY 


295 


I wish I could get rid of my body,” muttered Dr. 
Ramsay so quaintly that Helen perforce had to smile; 
whereat, he said aggrievedly, “ It isn’t all that either, 
Mrs. Tressilian; love ” 

She checked him with a soft sympathising hand. Do 
I not know what love is? Dr. Ramsay! I cannot pity 
you.” 

“ Then I shall have to go,” he said obstinately. I 
will not have my work spoiled by any woman. ’ ’ 

She felt small somehow ; a trifle remorseful perhaps as 
she left the room. He certainly had been rather dejected 
of late and it was such a pity. 

And Ned also! He was not dejected, but he was 
changed, curiously changed. 

In truth the past six weeks, since the night when he 
had outwatched the stars, to be met in the dawn by the 
mischance of a confidence not intended for his ears, had 
changed him a great deal. He had not seen Aura since. 
He had purposely left New Park, before she was well 
enough to receive visitors, and had only returned to it 
after she had been moved for a freshening up at the sea- 
side. But he had heard of her constantly from Ted, who, 
after two or three days of intense anxiety, had gone back 
to business with renewed zest. This time interruption 
had apparently been beneficial ; at least the first few days 
of Aura’s convalescence and disappointment had been 
cheered by him with the most sanguine of outlooks on the 
future. He even went so far as to say that, perhaps after 
all, things were best as they were. They would move 
into a still better house, and be able to set up properly 
before taking upon themselves the responsibilities of life. 

Aura had said Perhaps,” and after he had gone had 
lain and cried softly to herself. There is nothing in the 
wide world so sacred to a woman as her grief for the 
child which has died to save her life. It is grief of 
the most inward type, unknown, unrecognised by others, 
which lasts through the years and grows no slighter than 
it was when in the dim, between life and death, she first 
learns that her child has paid the ransom for her. 


296 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


In a way, therefore, the doubt, which by degrees grew jj 
into a certainty, that Fate had denied motherhood to her, 
had at first almost brought her comfort. j 

If there was no probability of her being more fortunate 
in the future, happiness neither awaited her, nor could ! 
there be any rivalry between the dead child and a liv- j 
ing one. There was a tragedy in both lives, not only in 
the one. 

Such thoughts as these, aided by the very intensity of i 
her grief, kept her going until she began to face the world 
again at the sea-side. Then came one of those fiery fur- 
naces of the soul through which so few pass unscathed. | 
She used to wander down at the ebb low tide, past the | 

groups of children building castles in the sand, past the 3 

uttermost outermost little waving fringe of sea-spoil left, 
but for a brief half hour, by the regretful retreat of ’ 
the waves, and gaze out over the long, low sand-banks, j 
claimed as their own by clouds of fluttering, settling, 'j 
fluttering seagulls. i 

The tide had truly ebbed — the mud-flats of life lay 

bare. Her thoughts were like the gulls, never still for > 

a second. Only in the slack tide of the estuary there was 
rest for a moment, and the long, brown arms of the sea- 
weed waved sleepily, seeming to call her to rest with 
them. 

So she would go back again to her lodgings, but in 
the night time she would rise and draw up her blind and 
look out. 

And lo ! the tide was up again, the sea lay like a sheet 
of silver and there was no more land, neither was there 
any sound of tears. 

Thus, after a time, she came back to the new house 
on which Ted, during her absence, had been lavishing 
enough money, he felt, to prove his undying affection 
twice over. He was quite full of its many advantages 
when she finally arrived there. For one thing, they 
would be able to entertain in it; and entertainments 
would be a great feature in his coming life. One of the 
chief reasons for Mr. Hirsch ’s enormous success had been 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


297 


his genius for giving recherche dinners. Ted could not 
hope to rival him; still with the cordon blene’s help — 
here he became exceedingly affectionate — much was pos- 
sible. They must certainly entertain Mr. Hirsch and his 
daughter. Oh yes ! had not Aura heard of the daughter ? 
Mr. Hirsch had imported her ready-made, grown-up — 
really a very nice-looking girl — from Berlin? She was 
about twenty, and no one had had any idea Hirsch was a 
widower ; but he seemed devoted to the girl, and to have 
given up the search for a wife which had been his pur- 
suit for years. 

The fact of the matter being, though Ted did not know 
it, that, having failed once more in his endeavours to 
marry a well-connected Englishwoman, Mr. Hirsch had 
fallen back on a less legal establishment of his youth for 
which he had always paid with scrupulous honour. 
Hence Miss Hirsch who, being a goodnatured creature 
like her father, bid fair to fill up his affections and give 
him the home for which, as he grew older, he was begin- 
ning to yearn. 

Anyhow Mr. and Miss Hirsch would have to be enter- 
tained when they came to Blackborough, and Aura should 
have the long talked-of pink satin gown in which to re- 
ceive them. It might even be possible to put them up. 
There were two good rooms on the first floor which would 
not be wanted yet awhile. Aura might see them after 
she had had her tea. 

“ Thanks, Ted,” she replied hurriedly, “ but— but per- 
haps IVe done enough for to-day. I can see them to- 
morrow. ’ ’ 

Just those few minutes of facing the new house, the 
new life had wearied her absolutely. And she had other 
things to face in the near future. Sooner or later she 
felt that she ought to tell her husband that those rooms 
would never in all human probability be wanted. 

But she could not tell him now. That was beyond her 
strength. 


CHAPTER XXV 


“ Mrs. Edward Cruttenden requests the pleasure of 
Lord Blackborough ’s company at dinner.’’ 

It was a printed card, and Ned Blackborough laid it 
down on the table, feeling that the world was getting 
beyond him. 

This was about a week or so after Aura ’s return, and 
he had intended to call on her that very afternoon. Now 
he refrained. 

“ I am so sorry we had to give you such short notice, ’ ’ 
said Ted, whom he met in the street next day, ‘ ‘ but the 
Hirschs were coming down unexpectedly and it had to 
be hurried. I hope you can come. ’ ’ 

“ Oh! I am coming all right,” said Ned a trifle surlily. 
‘ ‘ I hope it won ’t be too much for Aura. ’ ’ 

Ted looked at him with immense surprise. ‘ ‘ My dear 
fellow ! Aura is as well as she can be, and awfully inter- 
ested in it. Well! I’m glad you can come. You’ll like 
Miss Hirsch, she’s charming, so fresh and gay.” 

It was a real parlourmaid who announced Lord Black- 
borough this time, and he saw a furtive green-grocer in 
the background ; otherwise the house seemed to him much 
the same, only larger, more pretentious. The drawing- 
room was distinctly more — what was the word? chaste. 
Yes! distinctly more chaste. It was white and gold, and 
was that Aura in a pink satin dress — ye heavens above ! 
in pink satin ! She did not look ill, but as their eyes met 
he was conscious of a distinct shock. There was some- 
thing wanting in them, the best part of her was not there. 

Where was it ? 

The question absorbed him even while he was being 
presented to Miss Hirsch, a jolly, handsome, rather stout 

298 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


299 


girl, also — as the fates would have it — in pink satin. 
But she was literally ablaze with diamonds. 

Aha ! my old friend Blackborough ! ’ ’ laughed Mr. 
Hirsch explosively, “ this is good sight for sore eyes. 
Make me your compliments for my daughter, sir. ’ ' 

“ I prefer to make them to Miss Hirsch herself,” re- 
plied Ned gallantly, and then they went in to dinner. 

It was an excellent repast. Ted had evidently pursued 
the only course consonant with success. He had ordered 
it direct from Benoist ’s and kept the minions of the great 
caterer out of evidence. Iced mellon gave place to con- 
somme biscuit f truite ct I’aurore to filets financieres, 
poularde casserole to something else, until at the end the 
conversation became interspersed with cigarettes and 
coffee. 

It was an enormous success; and all the time Ned 
Blackborough was wondering what had become of Aura, 
whither she had gone. Only once did he get a glimpse 
of what he had known in the past, and that was when, 
after Miss Hirsch had sung like a second-class profes- 
sional (in other words like her mother) to his accom- 
paniment, he had asked Aura if he might not accompany 
her also. 

‘ ‘ My dear Blackborough, ’ ’ Ted had exclaimed, ‘ ‘ after 
such singing as Miss Hirsch has just given us, I’m sure 
my wife would hardly like ” 

“ But I should like,” he had interrupted imperturb- 
ably. 

Then it was that Aura had said swiftly in an under- 
tone — 

“ Please don’t.” 

He had obeyed, as he had obeyed the same order once 
before. But that night he sat up again and drank 
whisky and water and smoked opium-sodden cigarettes, 
and the next day he went down to call, for he did not 
intend that sort of thing should go on. 

She did not intend it should either. He found her in 
the back garden, which was really quite of a decent size, 
busy planting something between the prim privets, and 


300 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


eunonyms and variegated hollies which, even in this late 
autumn, gave the wall-surrounding shrubbery a sem- 
blance of green. 

“ Do you know what I am planting? ” she asked 
frankly. “ I am planting some iris alata.’^ 

He narrowed his eyes and looked at her. 

“ Hardly in the most beautiful place in the world,” 
he said cynically. 

“ That won’t make them any the less beautiful,” she 
replied and then suddenly her whole face melted, her 
eyes shone with tears, with smiles, with happiness, re- 
grets, with fair passions and bountiful pities and love 
without stain. ‘ ‘ Oh, Ned ! Ned ! ’ ’ she cried, holding 
out her hand to him again. ‘ ‘ I have to beg your pardon 
for so much — I have to thank you for so much — which 
shall I do first? ” 

What could he do save take her hand as frankly as it 
was given and say “ Neither.” Since between them he 
knew there was no possibility of gratitude, no possibility 
of forgiveness. 

So they began to talk, not of her illness or of these later 
days at all, but of Cwmfaernog, and Plas Afon, and how 
she had found the snake-stone under the old yew-tree. 

‘ ‘ I always wear it, you know, at least I do nowadays, ’ ’ 
she said, and drawing up her loose sleeve showed it to 
him worn as an amulet, warm against the fair whiteness 
of her skin. His heart gave a throb. For all her courage 
then, she was not happy. Such trifles tell of a search for 
support. 

Then Ted came in, breezy and full of life. It had been 
a success last night, had it not? The pink satin had not 
suited Aura quite so well as he had hoped; not so well 
as it had suited Miss Hirsch, who had looked ripping. 
Perhaps it ought to have been blue. Or perhaps it was 
the diamonds that did the trick. Had any one ever seen 
better diamonds than Miss Hirsch ’s ? 

Anyhow, it had been a great success, and they must 
give some more dinner-parties and get into the way of 
entertaining. 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 301 

Aura might ask Mrs. Tressilian and Dr. Ramsay as a 
beginning. 

“You won’t get Ramsay,” remarked Ned Black- 
borough; “he is away in Vienna. He has taken three 
months’ leave, but he put in a very good man for the 
time. ’ ’ 

In truth, St. Helena’s Hospital was, as Peter Ramsay 
had declared it would, getting on quite as well without 
him as it did with him. The only person who was dis- 
satisfied with the new state of affairs was Helen Tres- 
silian, and she was frankly in a very bad temper both 
with him and with herself. It was so foolish of him. 
Had she not known it would be absolutely useless she 
would have sent in her own resignation, but what good 
would it have done? It would only have made matters 
worse, since he would never return if she went. All 
she could do was to hope very sincerely that the three 
months’ change would effect its object, and that he would 
forget her. 

And yet even this did not quite soothe her irritation, 
even this was not quite what she wanted. 

What did she w^ant? She was taking herself severely 
to task one afternoon when Sister Ann came in looking 
grave. 

“ I have just had a letter with some rather bad news 
in it,” she said. “ I hope it isn’t true, but it sounds 
serious. It is from my friend who I told you had gone 
to study at Vienna.” 

Helen’s heart leapt to her mouth. “ Well? ” she said 
impatiently, wondering the while with a sudden feeling 
of dread why she should feel so disturbed. 

“I’ll read you what he says. ‘ We are all a bit down- 
hearted just now because Ramsay, who is one of the nicest 
fellows who ever lived, is ill with pyaemia. It would be 
a thousand pities if he were to go out, for he is quite the 
best operator here. Of course he is being well looked 
after, but it must be awful away from all one s friends. 

Helen went deadly white. “ Do you think it is true? 
she asked almost helplessly. 


302 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


Sister Ann re-folded the letter methodically. “ It 
must be true, of course, and it is not unlikely. You 
know he was always a trifle reckless when there was 
anything to be done even here. One can only hope he is 
not so very bad. You will send a wire, I suppose? ” 

‘‘ Yes,’’ replied Helen. “ Of course we will send a 
wire — and — yes. I will send a wire, I think. ’ ’ 

“ It is terribly sad,” said Sister Ann, for all her in- 
variable cheerfulness, quite mournfully. “Apart from 
his immense value to the world, he was such a dear soul 
in so many ways. I have often thought what an ex- 
cellent husband and father he would have made.” 

After she had gone, to tell the news presumably in 
that even tone of voice, Helen thought with a rush of 
resentment, the latter sat in a perfect tumult of emotion. 
Anger, pity, regret all fought for first place. What 
right, for instance, had Sister Ann to use the past tense 
in speaking of Dr. Ramsay? He was not dead. 

Dead? 

Impossible, incredible! It could not, it must not be 
true 1 

But what good would a wire be to a man lying per- 
haps unconscious, at any rate alone ? 

She stood up pushing her hair back from her forehead. 
A great wave of pity for him, but more for herself, over- 
came her; she stared out of the room scarcely seeing 
what was before her. 

Just on the opposite side of the room a long pier 
glass filled up the space between the two tall windows. It 
w'as growing dusk, and the mirror showed dark and 
empty looking against the light. No, not quite empty, 
there was a figure in it going away from her into the 
darkness. It was the figure of a man making haste. It 
hurried on, its back towards her, down an interminable 
pathway that was lost in the shadows. It was going, oh, 
so fast 1 And she recognized it. It was Peter Ramsay as 
she had last seen him hurrying away to catch his train. 
It grew smaller and smaller, it overtook the shadows, 
they gathered it in. 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


303 


“ No ! no ! ” she cried aloud. “ Don’t go— don’t go ! ” 

Was there a pause? She could not tell. The vision 
vanished, and she was left to the knowledge that she had 
once more almost over-stepped the bounds of the unseen, 
and to a dim sense of something unsuspected in herself! 

One thing was certain. He must not go, thinking she 
cared not at all. How many hours was it to Vienna? 
That mattered very little if she started as quickly as she 
could. She must get there sooner or later. 

Half an hour afterwards she was at the station, and by 
midnight she was standing looking out at the stars from 
the deck of a Channel steamer with the lights of Calais 
ahead of her. She did not regret her impulse, all she 
thought of was that somehow that figure she had seen 
losing itself in the shadows must be stopped, must be 
brought back to the light. 

It was a wearisome journey. She had left without due 
preparation, she was all unused to foreign travelling, and 
she did not care to forage for food for fear she might be 
left behind. 

So it was rather a dejected Helen Tressilian who got 
out in the struggling daylight of a November day at the 
Haupt Bahnhof, and, after a while, found herself driv- 
ing, she literally knew not whither, through wide streets 
and narrow streets to the public hospital. It was there, 
she knew, that Peter Ramsay was working, so there she 
hoped to have news of him at once. But she had reck- 
oned without the formalism of German institutions. At 
first she could hardly elicit the fact that there was such a 
person as a Scotch physician by name Ramsay in Vienna, 
for she had called him English, and that error, a grave 
one to the foreigner, had seemed to discredit her alto- 
gether. 

Then who was she? Sister or mother? If not, what 
claim had she to be admitted to the bedside of the ‘ ‘ dan- 
gerously-sick un-friend-recognising patient? ” She had 
better see the Chief-Head-Over-Superintendent, and if 
he consented, perhaps ! 

So she drove off again disheartened. The Chief-Head- 


304 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


Over-Superintendent was out, and after waiting for him 
till she grew sick and cold she determined to follow him 
to the Medical College. Here she was met by more formal- 
ities, to which was added a suggestion that, not being a 
relation, she should go to the British consulate and get 
a certificate that she was of the ‘ ‘ due-respectable-and-to- 
be-admitted-f riends. ’ ’ 

And then, suddenly, to her despair at the delay, came 
the memory of Pagenheim. It was silly of her not to have 
thought of him before. Yes. She would go to Pagen- 
heim ; he was her only hope. 

She was shown into a room stuffed full of furniture, 
where a florid, bearded man had evidently just been 
smoking. 

He sat looking with immense interest at the card she 
had sent in. 

‘ ‘ Mein Gott ! ” he said, going on in fairly idiomatic 
English. ‘ ‘ But your names ! T r e s - s i 1 ” 

“ Tressilian,” said Helen impatiently. 

‘ ‘ Tres-silian ! Now, Miss, what does that mean 1 
Tre — three — sil-i-an. Does it mean three fools? Wass 
fur ein — Gott in Himmel ! you are crying — Gnadige 
Fraulein, pardon.’’ 

It was the truth. Helen, worn out by her long and 
hungry journey, disappointed, driven from pillar to post, 
had found it too much that her last hope should waste 
precious time in philological studies. 

“ I beg your pardon,” she said, stifling her tears, 
“ but I have come all the way from England to see Dr. 
Ramsay, and now I cannot get at him. Do help me if 
you can.” 

Dr. Pagenheim blew out his cheeks as if a pipe might 
have been a consolation to him. “ Soh! You — you can- 
not be his mother — you — you are his sister, doubtless ? ’ ’ 

Helen, behind her handkerchief, shook her head. “ I 
— I am a nurse, ’ ’ she said faintly, ‘ ‘ and I have come on 
purpose ” 

“ But, gnMge Fraulein,” interposed the great man, 
becoming professional, “he is already nursed, nursed 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


305 


devotedly. There is no place for you I fear. It is against 
the rules. If you were a relation it were different.” 

Helen looked up at him, goaded to desperation. 

“ But — but I am more than that, Dr. Pagenheim,” 
she said. “ I — I am engaged to be married to him.” 

The blond, florid face melted into instant sentiment, 
the tongue into German. 

‘ ‘ Soh ! Oh Love ! Love ! What dost thou not ? So 
he is betrothed and we knew it not ? Stay ! is your name 
Helen? ” 

‘‘ Yes. Helen Tressilian,” she replied. 

“ Liehes Kind! ” cried the great professsor. “ He has 
in his delirium called for you by name. Dry your tears, 
we will mend him for you surely. Helen ! Ach ! that is 
an all-powerful, love-compelling name-of-uttermost vic- 
tory, so have no fear. You shall to him go so soon as I 
can get on my boots. ’ ’ He stuck out a big slippered foot 
in explanation and encouragement as he beamed on 
her. 

“ If I might have a glass of milk,” Helen felt em- 
boldened to say. “ I haven’t had time, somehow ” 

“ Gott in Himmel! She is hungry,” roared the pro- 
fessor. “ Oh, Love! Love! what dost thou not? Greta,” 
this to the elderly servant who answered his furious 
ringing. “ Milk, food, drink, everything for this gra- 
cious-betrothed-one while I put on my boots. ’ ’ 

Fortified by hot coffee and a roll, Helen, being whirled 
through the streets of Vienna in the doctor’s coupe, felt 
that, come what might, she did not repent her hasty im- 
pulse. Even if Peter Ramsay lived. 

“ Thou must remember, liehes kind,'^ came the pro- 
fessor’s jovial voice all softened to warning, “ he is very 
ill ; only the good God knows how ill. But we are doing 
our best for him. The high fever has gone, but the 
weakness remains. You must be very quiet.” 

‘‘ I am a nurse,” she said, “ I know.” In a way it 
was only as a nurse that she had come, only because she 
could not bear to think of him dying alone. 

It seemed an interminable age that she sat in the coupe 


306 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


while Dr. Pagenheim was preparing the hospital author- 
ities. It was quite a small place, almost private : a place 
reserved by the doctors for their most serious cases. It 
had a conventional air, and Helen as she sat could see a 
sister of charity or two, with large white-winged caps, 
moving about. Would they let her in? Surely Dr. 
Pagenheim was powerful enough for that. He came 
back after a time with the matron, a severe looking sister, 
with a weary face. He was much graver. “You can 
see him, and, if you are quiet, you can remain; but he 
will not know you.’’ 

Did he not? As she entered the wide, white ward, 
empty save for the bed set in the middle, the low, hurried 
muttering from the figure which lay on it ceased for a 
moment. It almost seemed as if the mutterer was listen- 
ing. Then he began again, too low to be intelligible even 
to the English ears which bent over to listen. The nurses, 
two fair, simple-faced sisters, looked at her with kindly 
compassion and curiosity. 

“ He is so restless,” said one, speaking in the low, even 
sing-song which so many nurses acquire as a kind of 
whisper. “ If he could only sleep ; but we dare not give 
drugs, his heart is so weak. ’ ’ 

His right hand, all bandaged up to the elbow, lay slung 
in a shifting cradle just above the bed-clothes, his left, 
the fingers closing and unclosing with a terrible regular- 
ity, hung half over the bedside. She slipped hers into 
it and it closed on hers tightly, so tightly that after a 
time the blood seemed to seek a way through her finger- 
tips. The muttering became more distinct. 

‘ ‘ Number 36. I am not sure about number 36. ’ ’ 

“ He is doing very well,” she replied softly. “ Sister 
Ann is quite pleased with him. The dressings were not 
in the least disturbed, and he slept all night without 
drugs. He is to have beef-tea to-day,” the muttering 
had ceased, the sick man lay quite still, the grip of his 
hand was slackening, “ and to-morrow he will have 
chicken, and then, if he will only sleep, sleep, sleep quite 
quietly, sleep — sleep — sleep.” 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


307 

“ GnMige Fraulein,” came the nurse’s whisper, “ seat 
yourself so, there must be no movement if possible. ’ ’ 

How long she sat there, her hand in his, she did not 
know, long enough anyhow to feel that, when, or how, 
or why she knew not, the very touch of him had become 
dear to her, for it was not only the tingling of the veins 
after the almost benumbing pressure of his fingers which 
sent the thrill to her heart and her brain. He had told 
her the truth : the past was in the present. 

After a time he stirred, swallowed a spoonful of 
nourishment, and slept again. Another nurse stole into 
the room and whispered with the two in a corner. 
Helen could not see their calm, fair, untroubled faces, but 
she could hear one word, a word they had renounced for 
themselves, which for all that sent a thrill through their 
woman hearts. 

‘ ‘ Love — true love ! ’ ’ 

Was it that? Or had she merely wrecked herself and 
him for something evanescent, worth little? Helen was 
half asleep herself, all she realised was that something 
had brought rest to him for the time. 

So when the bad turn came again he was stronger, hut 
so long as she was in the room the painful restlessness 
never returned. And day by day the dressers were more 
satisfied. 

“ Helen of Troy is sufficient to bring any man back 
from the grave, lich du licbe Gott, what will not the true 
love do? ” beamed Herr Pagenheim, and the nurses 
sighed and smiled. Finally, there came a day when Peter 
Ramsay really opened his eyes, found Helen beside him, 
and closed them again contentedly. After this came cogi- 
tation, so by degrees a puzzled look grew to his eyes. 

“ It was awfully good of you to come and help nurse 
me,” he said weakly at last.*^ “ How did you find out I 
was ill? ” 

‘ ‘ Sister Ann had a letter, so I came. I knew you must 
be alone,” she replied sedately. 

“ It must have been an awful journey for you. I 
feel so sorry about it,” he continued almost impatiently. 


308 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


“ You must have had a lot of trouble. And then, when 
you got here — what beats me is, why did they let you in ? 
They are so strict. ’ ’ 

She felt the colour rising to her face. “ Oh ! I man- 
aged,” she said evasively. “ Now, you really must take 
your Valentine’s extract and go to sleep.” 

He shifted restlessly. “ How can I go to sleep when 
I am worried? ” he said pitifully, fretfully as a child. 

I tell you it must have given you a lot of trouble, and 
I’m so vexed.” 

Her face grew tender as she bent over him. ‘ ‘ I assure 
you I had no trouble at all. It was quite easy. Will you 
— will you promise me to go to sleep if I tell you how — 
how I managed? ” 

“ Do,” he said with a little sigh. “ I really want to 
know. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ They asked me if I were your mother or your sister, ’ ’ 
she said, scarcely able to speak for her trembling lips. 
“ So I said no — but — but that I was engaged to be mar- 
ried to you. ’ ’ 

He lay quite still. He did not even put out his hand 
to hers, but the swift tears ran down his hollow cheeks 
and wetted the pillow. 

“ You promised you would go to sleep, dear,” she said 
softly, and he closed his eyes, once more like a child. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


If Madam will leave it to us,” said Myfanwy Jones, 
“ we will g-ive her satisfaction,” 

She took in all Aura’s grace and beauty as she spoke. 
Full of shrewd sense, appreciative by virtue of her race, 
of all that makes for beauty, knowledgeable in all that 
enhances beauty, her bold dark eyes realised that here 
was some one worth dressing. 

“We will — ^yes ! we will make it of white velours-panne 
and dead white velvet. It will become Madam, I am sure. 
I will consult the buyer regarding the price.” 

She swept away over the Turkey carpets of Williams 
and Edwards’ shop, her shiny, undulating black satin 
train rippling behind her, towards a tall, most immacu- 
late figure in a long frock coat, who was busy comparing 
scraps of silk with another tall, broad-shouldered young 
man. Both might have entered a grenadier company and 
looked all too big and strong for their task. 

“ Excuse me, Mr. Morris,” said Myfanwy, with the 
most superb courtesy, ‘ ‘ but I should like to speak to Mr. 
Pugh for an instant.” Having got him to herself, her 
manner changed. 

‘ ‘ Merve ! ” she said sharply. ‘ ‘ What price order 
costume, panne and velvet, my wedding-dress design — 
you know. I want to make it. ’ ’ 

“ For that lady? ” he said, looking across to where 
Aura stood, feeling as she still felt in shops, utterly shy 
and miserable. In an instant a hot fiush overspread his 
face, and he turned back to the silk patterns. 

“ Thirty guineas.” 

Myfanwy sniffed scornfully. “ You will oblige me, 
Mervyn Pugh, by having some sense. Look at her ! will 

309 


310 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


she give more than fifteen guineas for a dress? Never! 
and I want to make it.” 

‘ ‘ Five-and-twenty, ’ ’ he said, refraining from the look. 
He would gladly have stuck to the thirty, and so have 
driven Aura from the shop, had he dared. But he did 
not dare. He was under Myfanwy’s orders, and, so 
far, he had had no reason to regret the fact. He had 
climbed like Jonah’s gourd, and was now Williams and 
Edwards’ first buyer. And next year when, after his 
marriage with Myfanwy (who was now head of the cos- 
tume department) the additional interest of making 
money for himself instead of for others had come in his 
life, and there could be no doubt of their success. He 
had all the Cymric’s fine feelings for feminine fal-lals 
(which is shown indubitably by the names over the 
drapers’ shops in London) and Myfanwy had a perfect 
genius for dress. Considering, therefore, the crowds of 
women absolutely without any taste at all who desire to 
dress well, the result was assured. He began to wonder 
how he had ever thought seriously of being a pedagogue, 
a demagogue, or a minister. 

‘ ‘ I shall say twenty, ’ ’ remarked Myfanwy reflectively, 
‘ ‘ it can be made for fifteen, and she shall have it for that 
in the end. But I want to make it. She is lovely — and 
I want to know how I shall look in my wedding-dress. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Twenty 1 ’ ’ said Mervyn wavering. 

“ I hope it may buy her all she desires as my dress 
will buy me,” contended Myfanwy, with a challenge of 
lip and eyes. “ I will say eighteen, Mervyn, to begin 
with.” 

With that she swept back to Aura. “ It will be 
eighteen guineas. Madam,” she said sweetly; “ but if 
Madam will give us the Mechlin scarf she is wearing to 
utilise, it will be fifteen. ’ ’ 

Fifteen! It seemed enormous to Aura’s ignorance. 
Yet Ted had given twelve, she knew, for the pink satin, 
and he had bidden her — since he was too busy to shop — 
be sure and get something very nice indeed for Ned 
Blackborough ’s dance on New Year’s Eve. Fifteen 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


311 


whole sovereign remedies and fifteen shillings over! 
What an immense amount to spend upon herself, she 
who at best was but a poor maimed thing. Every now 
and again this feeling of being, as it were, a castaway, 
a derelict on Life’s sea, would come to her, though she 
knew that millions of women, many from choice, went 
through the world and left their mark on it with never a 
child to call them mother. Still the sense of being, as it 
were, out of the fighting-line was at times oppressive. So 
few things seemed to matter ; certainly not the spending 
of money. 

‘ ‘ It will have to be ready by the 31st, ’ ’ she stipulated, 
and then she smiled as she invariably did when she re- 
membered Ned Blackborough. 

Myfanwy Jones took in the smile with critical shrewd- 
ness. Had she been asked, she would have said it was 
not exactly the smile of a married woman, although Aura 
had given her name as Mrs. Cruttenden. 

What of that? Myfanwy ’s notions were decidedly 
broad, and if she could compass a good time, as she her- 
self counted a good time, for this lovely girl, the lovely 
girl should have one. 

“Miss Moore! Madam’s measure!” she called in 
queenly fashion, and searched in her beaded-satchel — 
pockets would have disturbed the elegant set of her dress 
— for a pencil. It had slipped inside a folded paper, and 
as Myfanwy removed it, she smiled in her turn. For she 
had caught a glimpse of the writing and printing inside 
the paper. 

“ Miss Alicia Edwards,” “ Messrs. Williams and Ed- 
ward,” “ per M. Jones.” 

Only that morning Myfanwy had paid the bill and re- 
ceived her commission on the sales ; so there it was await- 
ing developments. 

“ If Madam will come for one fitting,” suggested My- 
fanwy superbly. She was going to stake her reputation 
on this dress, and she meant not to lose it. 

The result exceeded even her expectations. 

Aura looked at herself in the long glass and then at 


312 


A 80YEREIGN REMEDY 


Myfanwy, who, with infinite condescension, had insisted 
on seeing Madam dressed. 

‘‘ What have you done to me? ” she asked, “ I don’t 
know myself.” 

Was it the long, straight, brilliant, moonshiny folds 
that made her look so tall and slim? Was it the tiny, 
scarcely-seen silver threads outlining the flowing curves 
of dead- white velvet about the hem which made one think 
of moonlit clouds ? Was it the cunningly devised drapery 
of lace which made the bodice seem a loose sheath to love- 
liness ? 

Myfanwy Jones looked at Aura with undisguised pity. 
“ It is only that Madam is so seldom dressed ; she is only 
clothed ; but to-night she will be the best-dressed person 
in the rooms. ’ ’ She looked at her doll with a sphynx-like 
expression not without some malice in it. “ If Madam 
will allow me, ’ ’ she said, and her deft fingers were in the 
bronze hair: “ so — the shape of Madam’s head is heaven- 
ly — and — and not the diamond brooch — ^the dress re- 
quires nothing but Madam ’s self. That is right ! I trust 
Madam will enjoy herself.” 

Aura went downstairs to show herself to her husband, 
with a queer new feeling of power tingling in every vein. 
Why at two-and-twenty should she hold herself derelict ? 
A ship need not always steer straight to the pole. 

Ted had been extremely busy and rather irritable ever 
since she had returned; not irritable with her — he never 
was that — but distrait and careless. In a way it had been 
a relief, since it had given her time to try and adjust 
herself to her new outlook. She had not even spoken to 
him regarding that new outlook; she was almost doubt- 
ing if she should. Her silence would, no doubt, be a bar 
to perfect confidence; but was such a thing as perfect 
confidence possible between two people so dissimilar as 
she and Ted? Perhaps it was better to drift on. 
Whither ? 

The question would come with a pang, sometimes 
bringing the thought that it might have been better if she 
and the little one — ^the little daughter they told her — had 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


313 


gone out hand in hand to wander in the “ groves of 
asphodel/’ That was Ned’s phrase; and with that would 
come another pang. 

What would she do without Ned? He had been so 
kind. He had lent her books to read, he had taken her 
out in the motor, he had even talked of the dead baby 
almost as if he understood how dear a memory it had 
to be. 

Ted looked at her from head to foot, and a slow smile 
crept over his good-looking sensible face. 

“ That is something like,” he said. “ By Jove! you 
look most awfully fetching 1 A little ice-bergy, ’ ’ he con- 
tinued, bending to kiss the white shoulder above the 
Mechlin lace : ‘ ‘ but — but that ’s your style. Only I wish 
you had more colour. If this ‘ biz ’ of mine comes off, 
we ’ll take a holiday somewhere — Monte Carlo, perhaps — 
the Hirsches are going there. Now we ought to be start- 
ing. You don’t mind my dancing, do you dearest? I 
do wish you’d learn. It looks so odd your sitting out 
with the old fogies.” 

‘ ‘ I shall sit out with Ned, ’ ’ she replied lightly. 

For the first time in her life Ted frowned at her. ‘ ‘ It 
seems to me,” he said quite nastily, “ that you have 
done a lot of sitting-out with Ned lately. I don’t half 
like it.” 

She stared at him, and all the way to New Park sat 
thinking of what he had said. Was it possible he was 
going to be jealous of her? Of her who had married him 
to get rid of the very possibility.” 

A ray of light from a gas-lamp lit up her face, and 
she found Ted’s eyes fastened on her. 

“ You are most awfully fetching to-night— you look 
so jolly mysterious somehow,” he said joyously, putting 
his cheek against hers. “ Give me a kiss, wifelet.” 

She gave him one. She would have given him a dozen 
of the trivial things had he asked for them ! Then she 
laid her hand on his. 

“You weren’t serious about Ned, were you? she 
asked. 


314 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


“ Not — not altogether/^ he admitted with a smile; 

‘ ‘ but you can ’t be too careful, my child. People are the 
devil to talk. And you mustn ’t forget that he did want 
to marry you. ’ ^ 

She must not forget ! And all her efforts had been to 
forget it utterly. What a queer world it was ! 

“ Here we are,’’ said Ted cheerfully. By Jove I 
Blackborough is doing it well ! ’ ’ 

For once, indeed. New Park looked habitable. Ned, 
remembering the East, had had it illuminated in Indian 
fashion, and even the heavy-browed architraves and the 
stucco columns looked passable outlined by rows of little 
lamps. Great cressets blazed following the ground plan 
of the huge pile, the balustrades of the formal terraces 
shone in lines of light. The wide portico, carefully en- 
closed, was full of palms, and festooned with vines from 
which hung great clusters of grapes. Within, it was im- 
possible to recognise the formal suites of rooms. They 
seemed to have vanished, taking with them all the 
stiff furniture, the gorgeous clogging carpets. In their 
places were airy pavilions, orange gardens, great groves 
of tall lilies. Money had been spent lavishly in getting 
rid of all traces of money. And in the centre of it 
all stood Ned Blackborough with Helen Tressilian, look- 
ing years younger, beside him, as she received congratu- 
lations on her approaching marriage, all the time keep- 
ing a watchful eye lest Peter Ramsay should weary 
after his recent illness ; but he looked alert and keen as 
ever. 

“ A small and early, and you come at a quarter past 
nine ! ’ ’ said Ned, then paused, absolutely dazzled by the 
shiny folds, the moonlit clouds, the parted sheath of the 
bodice concealing surely the most beautiful thing in the 
world. His vagrant mind reverted on the instant with a 
quaint admixture of regret and exultation to the adorn- 
ment he had ordered for the select supper-table at which 
Aura was to be entertained. This woman was beyond 
such simplicities as a little purple iris. For her, white 
roses, tuberoses, gardenias, stephanotis ; all the deadly 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


315 


sweet white things in the world, even the poisonous 
dhatura! 

“ I have put my name down for some dances later on,’' 
he said, handing her a programme; “ I shall be busy at 
first, but — let me see — Lord Scudamore, I am going to 
give you the honour of being presented to Mrs. Crut- 
tenden. Remember, you are engaged to me for supper. ’ ’ 

“ Is that wise? What will they say? ” asked Helen 
doubtfully, as Aura and her cavalier — a diplomatic-look- 
ing wearer of an immaculate dress-suit, with some sort of 
a ribbon across the shirt — amoved off. 

They, my dear Helen, will by that time be envying 
me my good luck, at least all the men will, and I will tell 
the cavilling women she is a bride. Did you ever see 
such a fairly bewildering dress ? She is the whole Dream 
of Fair Women rolled into one.” 

“ Let us go into the Winter Palace. Have you seen 
it? ” said Aura’s diplomat, and she went with him 
nothing loth. Ten minutes afterwards, however, she com- 
plained of a draught, and left it somewhat hurriedly, she 
with fine flaming cheeks and he somewhat sulkily. That 
was the worse of rustics ; they could not understand the 
most ordinary persiflage. 

‘ ‘ Where would you like to sit ? I am afraid I am en- 
gaged for this dance,” he said icily. 

‘ ‘ Oh ! anywhere, I like to be alone, ’ ’ replied Aura. 

It was not long her fate. Mr. Hirsch spied her out and 
bore down upon her, white waiscoat and all. His open 
admiration was almost a relief, mixed up as it was with 
still more boundless adoration of his daughter, who came 
flitting past in Ted’s arms. They were too much ab- 
sorbed in their waltz and their enjoyment of it to notice 
the sitters out, but Mr. Hirsch waxed enthusiastic over 
their appearance. They were a couple to be proud of, 
and he really was becoming quite proud of Ted, who 
promised to be a very rich man. He felt quite like a 
father towards him ; he had indeed fathered him into the 
world of speculation, and — ha-ha-ha — then he waxed ep 
ceedingly hilarious — if Mr. Cruttenden hadn’t been in 


316 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


such a terrible hurry to get married, who knows but what 
a family arrangement— she must excuse him, but really if 
she would look so superlatively beautiful she must expect 
the world to go crazy. 

“ What are you laughing at so loudly, papa? asked 
Miss Hirsch, pulled up in the next round by her parent ’s 
laughter. “I’m sure he must be boring you terribly, Mrs. 
Cruttenden. And there is Mr. Leveson, papa, just dying 
to be introduced — he told me so just now — do go and 
fetch him. You’ll find him awfully amusing, Mrs. Crut- 
tenden, he has seen so much life. ’ ’ 

He had seen too much for Aura. She came out from 
the conservatory white with anger. By this time half 
the men in the room were looking at her, and it was no 
longer any question of being alone. She was beginning to 
feel frightened, she looked vainly for Ted, but he having 
seen her, as he phrased it self-complacently, ‘ ‘ well-start- 
ed,” was amusing himself. So, in the crush of smiling, 
flattering faces, she saw Ned Blackborough’s, and caught 
almost convulsively at his arm, and his quiet decorous 
claim. 

“ Our dance, I think.” 

“ Oh! Ned! ” she said hurriedly, “ do let us go to 
some quiet place where we can get away from every- 
body. ’ ’ 

The suggestion was but too welcome. Free for a time 
from his duties as host, he cast all prudence to the winds. 
The sort of thing that had been going on was all very 
well, but it must end in the inevitable way. When she was 
happy, he might have been a fool. Now, he would not 
be one. It was not as if he would be doing Ted any real 
harm. If he was free of her he would be free to marry 
and have sons to inherit his money, he could even mar- 
ry Miss Hirsch! 

The library whither they escaped looked snug and 
comfortable, all untouched by the babel without. The 
reading lamp by the blazing fire; Ned’s book as he had 
left it. 

‘ ‘ This is nice, ’ ’ she said with a little shiver of satisf ac- 


A 80YEREIQN REMEDY 


317 

tion, and taking up the book crouched down in her usual 
fashion by the fire to see what it was, 

Ned’s pulses were bounding. It was all he could do to 
keep his voice steady. 

You oughtn’t to do Cinderella in that lovely gown ! ” 
he said. 

Aura looked at him critically. “ I feel like Cinder- 
ella,” she said. “ I believe I want to go home before 
twelve; and I don’t think I like the gown; it makes me 
something I never was before. ’ ’ 

There was a silence. Ned Blackborough was telling 
himself he was a fool. 

“ I shall put out the light if you insist on trying to 
read a bad French novel instead of speaking to me, ’ ’ he 
said. “ There! — ” the click of the electric button sound- 
ed clear. “ It ’s much nicer with the firelight. Give that 
thing to me.” 

‘ ‘ Bad French novel, ’ ’ she echoed. ‘ ‘ Why do you read 
it if it is bad ? I wouldn ’t. ’ ’ 

“All people are not perfect,” he said recklessly. 
“ Most of us — except you — have a bad side. I often 
wonder what you would say if I were to show you 
mine? ” 

“You couldn’t,” she said softly. 

He had literally to harden his heart before he could go 
on, and then he had to double back. ‘ ‘ It — it isn ’t a bad 
book after all,” he went on turning the leaves idly, “ it 
is only real life. I’ll tell you the story if you like. Of 
course it is about a woman, and a man, and — and a hus- 
band — the old story that is always cropping up in the 
world, so the book ’s no good. ’ ’ He threw it aside in sud- 
den impulse upon the table, and knelt down beside her. 
“Aura,” he said passionately, “ you and I know the be- 
ginning of the story well. Why should we try and escape 
from the ending of it? Oh! for God’s sake, child, don’t 
look like that ! ” 

She had sprung up and was glancing down at the white 
shimmering folds of her gown in absolute horror. 

“ It is the dress,” she muttered. “ It is not me — it is 


318 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


not you, Ned — oh Ned, it can’t be you — it is the dress — I 
will go home — I must go home ” 

‘ ‘ Aura ! ” he cried, but she eluded him and was out in 
the wide lit corridor ere he could even ask her to be calm 
— to forgive him — to forget. He glanced after her for a 
moment ; then with a curse at himself closed the door and 
sat down moodily before the fire. What was the good ? 

Between the palms, the roses, the endless flowers and 
curtains of the corridor were many a cosy corner, many 
a prepared nook where men and women in the intervals 
between the dances sought seclusion and love-making, 
more or less casual according to the taste of the makers — 
and where passion, doubtless, had gone further than 
Ned’s brief outburst. 

‘ ‘ Hullo, Aura ! ’ ’ came her husband ’s voice as he 
issued from one of these corners with Miss Hirsch on his 
arm. “All alone! Why, what’s up? ” 

The necessity for calm came to her. “ I was looking 
for you,” she said. “ I want you to order the carriage 
for me. I’m feeling — not very well — and I shall be bet- 
ter at home — you see, as I don’t dance.” She looked 
helplessly at him wondering if she would be allowed 
to go. 

“ I’ll take you home, of course, if you want to go,” 
he said gloomily — “ that is, if Miss Hirsch will excuse 
me.” His regret for three more dances with the jolliest 
girl he had met for years was in his voice. 

“ Then I won’t go,” she began, “ I couldn’t 
spoil ’ ’ 

“ You are not looking a bit well,” said Miss Hirsch 
kindly. “ See! I’ll take you to the ladies’ room. Mr. 
Cruttenden, you might send her in a glass of champagne. 
Then you can have a quiet rest there, and go home later 
if you want to, but I expect you’ll be all right by sup- 
per time.” 

She nodded knowingly to Ted and went olf with Aura, 
bursting over with friendliness. 

But, left alone in charge of a bevy of prim maids, with 
the untouched champagne before her. Aura’s courage 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


319 


rose. She would do what she wanted to do. So, on her 
programme card she wrote a note to her husband using 
all the most consoling phrases she could think of — ‘ ‘ Feel- 
ing a little bilious, ” was in itself sufficient to allay any 
anxiety — ended up with a cheerful — “ I shall be asleep 
long ere you come home, please enjoy yourself,” and 
leaving this to be given to him when he came to inquire, 
slipped away. The clocks were just striking half-past 
eleven when she paid the cabman at the gate. She had 
forgotten the latch-key, but, thank heaven, the servants 
were still up. It was New Year’s Eve. Her thoughts 
flew back to Cwmfaernog, to the last New Year’s Day 
when she had learnt so many things. 

She was going to learn more now. She could not un- 
derstand. She did not know what the world meant. She 
was going to see for herself once and for all. 

As she thought this she was stripping off Myfanwy’s 
creation. 

“ Enjoy herself ! ’ ’ She flung it into a corner almost 
with a cry, and the next minute stood in her white serge 
and the brown Tam-o ’-Shanter. Mercifully some faint 
instinct of self-preservation made her muffle up the 
bronze beauty of her hair and hide some of the perfec- 
tion of her face under a thick veil. The next instant she 
had carefully closed the front door again, and was hur- 
rying away down the road towards the electric tram. 
They went till midnight; that would take her quickest 
to the heart of the great city. She had Ted’s duplicate 
latch-key with her ; she would try and be back before he 
returned. 

Hitherto she had sought for the uttermost wisdom of 
nature amongst the everlasting hills — now she was going 
to seek the uttermost wisdom of man in his haunts. 

“ Hullo! Polly, my dear, ain’t you cornin’ my side? ” 
came a voice from the shadows over the way, but she was 
close to the tram lines now, and a car was coming along. 
It was full of holiday-makers singing, shouting, harm- 
less enough, but over hilarious. Here there were more 
appeals to Polly (why perpetually Polly rather puzzled 


320 


A SOYEREIGN REMEDY 


her) as she clung to a strap, until a jovial elderly man 
pulled her down on his knee. Whereat the whole car 
roared as if it were some exquisite joke. But they meant 
no harm ; they were only just a little convivial. 

The car stopped at the Cross, the centre of the great 
city, and she got out. It was a fine old Cross, weather- 
beaten, worn, bearing on its four sides beneath the soar- 
ing quaintly floreated Symbol of Salvation, four bas- 
reliefs of the Passion of the Master, the Scourging, the 
Mocking, the Cross-carrying, the Crucifying. 

Beneath the latter Aura stood looking out with clear 
eyes at the conduct of Christendom. The radiating 
streets were all thronged ; the late music-halls were belch- 
ing out their crowds, the supper-rooms were preparing 
to close by turning out their guests. But the streets were 
not ready for bed. 

What a crowd! Gaily dressed women of almost all 
types. Some painted, bedizened, unmistakable, others 
apeing them amused, uncertain, even faintly repelled. 
Men with every expression on their faces, from evil 
passion, through vulgarity, to contemptuous tolerance. 
Half-grown girls more outrageous than their elders, half- 
grown lads jostling, leering, raiding the pavement- 
walkers into the very street. The electric light danced 
and quivered, the moistened mud of a thousand footsteps 
sparkled and shone. 

Where in all her midnight walks upon the hills had 
she seen a sight like to this? 

As she stood, more than one offer of a drink fell on her 
ears; but she took no notice. 

“ If you ain’t goin’,’’ said a policeman familiarly, 
“ you must move on. I can’t ’ave you standin’ doing 
nothin’. ” 

So she quitted the shadow of the Crucifixion; but at 
the corner of the street also, it was still ‘ ‘ move on, ’ ’ when 
she herself had failed to move on; so the next time the 
offer of a drink came she accepted it. 

‘ ‘ Bully for you, my girl ; come along, ’ ’ said the offerer, 
and they went across to a gin shop, the doors of which had 


A SOVEUBIGN REMEDY 


321 


never once been still; the flashing of their backwards 
and forward swing beating out the seconds with the reg- 
ularity of a clock. 

How bright it was ! How full these last few minutes 
before twelve. 

The offerer appraised his guest critically, ‘ ‘ Sherry ! ’ ' 
he ordered, “ and the usual — now! my girl, drink it up 
sharp. The night’s young for pleasure yet, but we shall 
have to turn out and find some other place. ’ ’ 

Aura looked at him clearly; at the face, not bad in 
itself, but overlaid with sensuality. 

“ I am not going to drink,” she said coldly. “ I only 
came in to see — and I have seen. ’ ’ 

She turned to go. Luckily for her, his torrent of ob- 
scene abuse was interrupted by a general exodus ; for sud- 
denly the Town Hall clock boomed, the church bells rang 
out, the old year passed, the new year began ; began with 
shouts and curses and kisses and laughter. Some one 
struck up “ Should Auld Acquaintance be Forgot,” and 
a band of perfect strangers to each other, hand-clasped 
and feeling wildly at each end for further friendship, 
lurched across the street. 

A Salvation lass, her face vivid with intent, clutched at 
Aura’s arm. “ Don’t go with him, my girl — don’t — he 
is the Devil — he is Sin incarnate — he is ” 

“ I am not going, ’ ’ answered Aura in a queer strained 
voice. “ I am in school. I am learning. I want to see 
for myself.” 

‘ ‘ That was Eve ’s sin — you are lost — come — come with 
me.” 

The crowd jostled them apart, jostled Aura into the 
shadow of a narrow archway. More than one man’s face 
looked into the shadow, spoke, then passed on with a jibe. 
The streets were beginning to empty ; the crowd was dis- 
solving into couples; men and women were hurrying 
away into the side streets. She must be going also. 

‘ ‘ Hullo ! you young devil 1 I have got you again, have 
I? ” came a hoarse voice, and a hand clutched at her arm. 

She wrenched it away, and looked for escape. Beside 


322 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


the low archway rose a flight of steps, above the steps a 
wider archway. A small door in it stood open. Scarcely 
thinking what she did, she sprang towards it, set aside 
a leathern curtain, and for the first time in her life found 
herself in a church. At least the man would not follow 
her here. 

What a quaint little place! It was almost dark, but 
lights were burning, small twinkling lights set in the 
form of a star at the further end, and she went forward 
curiously. The chapel, for it was no more than that, was 
not quite empty. Here and there among the shadowy 
chairs some flgure — generally two figures together — 
showed dimly. 

It must be a Roman Catholic chapel, for that gracious 
woman’s flgure crowned with stars uplifted above the 
sanctuary doors with a child in her arms, must be the 
Blessed Mother. 

Aura ’s heart leapt up to her. That she understood. 

And what was this at her gracious feet, beneath the 
five-pointed star of light? 

That was the mother again kneeling in adoration be- 
fore her new-born child, while the ox and the ass wor- 
shipped with wide, soft eyes, and the shepherds and the 
wise men thronged the door. 

Aura knelt down before the creche, her eyes wide, soft 
as those of the beasts that perish. Here was peace. Here 
was perfection ! No 1 not perfection, but the road to it. 
This was the solution of the horrors of human life out- 
side, but beyond human life lay the life that was not 
human, the something better of her dreams. 

A touch on her shoulder roused her. One of the Sisters 
of the Immaculate Conception, engaged in this rescue 
work, was beside her. 

“ Courage! ” she said. “ Courage! my sister! Our 
Blessed Lady will help you. Give up your sinful life.” 

Aura rose and looked at her simply. ‘ ‘ I am not a bad 
woman,” she said. ” I — I don’t think I ever could have 
been one. Now I know I couldn’t.” Then she flushed 
up. ‘ ‘ I — I should like to give something, ’ ’ she continued. 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


323 

and thrusting her ppse into the sister’s hand, she turned 
and passed rapidly into the street again. 

She had seen enough ; she had learnt enough. Now to 
get home. 

She would have taken one of the cabs, of which two 
or three still stood by the Cross, but she had no money. 
There were two pennies, it is true, in the pocket of her 
jacket, but the trams had ceased running for the night. 
There was nothing for it but to walk, and she had no 
idea of the way. Her two first experiences of asking it, 
one entailing immediate flight from insult, were not en- 
couraging. So the clocks were chiming half-past three 
ere, utterly worn out, draggled beyond belief, she stood 
in the hall of her own house again, thankful to find from 
the darkness that Ted had not yet returned. He might 
be back any moment, however, so she must make haste 
and remove her garments. She flung them all soiled and 
stained with the grime of the city, on the top of My- 
fanwy Jones’ creation, the beginning and the end to- 
gether. 

Then, as she stood in her white dressing-gown, she 
paused to listen. Was that a sound in Ted’s study? 
Could he have come in already? come in without seeing 
how she was? 

She went downstars. There was a light beneath the 
door ; she opened it. 

The room seemed to her to be full of smoke, making 
all things in it unreal, almost fantastic. And was that 
her husband looming large, jovial, content through this 
new atmosphere ? She shrank back from it. 

‘ ‘ Hullo, little woman ! Aura ! I ’ve such news for you. 
I ’ve turned up trumps with a vengeance. I ’m a hundred 
thousand pounds richer than I was yesterday. I found 
the telegram when I came home half an hour ago, and 
I’ve been dreaming ever since. Such dreams! You shall 
have the best time a woman ever had — frocks, jewels, 

everything — and by and by ” 

There may be no by and by,” she said quickly. 

Ted — oh Ted! be good to me.” 


CHAPTER XXVII 


“ It is May, ’ ’ said Ned Blackborough in rather a strained 
voice, “ and you promised to come to Cwmfaernog in 
May. You look as if you needed a holiday. Come ! ’’ 

Yes, it was May. Four whole months had passed 
since Myf anwy J ones ’ dress had upset Aura ^s cosmogony, 
and she had fled to And some foothold in the slums of 
the city. She had found a faith there, and had spent 
four months in trying to put that faith into practice. 

It had been up-hill work, but her courage had not 
wavered. 

Her eyes were clear as she looked back at Ned, who 
had come in to And her, as she so often was nowadays, 
alone. For Ted’s first great success had been but a pre- 
liminary to months of daily excitement spent in gaining, 
losing, gaining again, in the midst of which he seemed 
to have lost sight of the future altogether. And for the 
present he was too busy to care. Then underlying all 
things was his consciousness of youth. The outlook be- 
fore him was long ; he could not but see that chance might 
come into it. Why ! in five years time he would be just 
reaching the age at which it was prudent for a business 
man to marry; for, of course, his marriage to poor dear 
Aura had been grossly imprudent, though, but for this 
one disappointment, — which naturally meant more to her 
than to him — it had turned out very well. If only she 
would have condescended to amuse herself like other girls 
— like Rosa Hirsch, for instance — ^they might have had 
a jolly time together in the various European capitals 
whither his business took him. But what was the use of 
taking her when the only places in which Aura was not 
shy and ill at ease were musty fusty old picture galleries 

324 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


325 

and dreary botanical gardens. And “the Zoo,” of 
course; she had always been at home in “ the Zoo but 
then there was that beastly smell of smaller mammals all 
over the shop. So he had gone his way, kindly, quite 
affectionately, wholly without sympathy. To Aura it was 
rather a relief ; it gave her time to rearrange her world. 

She was looking a little weary over a pile of household 
accounts. There was no need nowadays for heartburn- 
ings as to expense; but none the less Ted expected a 
properly-balanced book, and the items were terribly 
numerous. It was the herring-and-a-half problem ex- 
pressed in pounds instead of pence, and there was quite 
a wrinkle of thought between Aura’s eyebrows, for she 
was no arithmetician. 

To Ned that wrinkle was a tragedy; but then it is 
always a tragedy for a man to watch from a distance the 
woman he loves trying to reconstruct her life, and recon- 
cile herself to the lack of what he knows he could give 
her; and the greater her success the greater — in a way 
— is the tragedy. 

Ned had felt this every instant of those four months 
during which the memory of that pitiful protest, “ Not 
you Ned. Ah! Ned, not you! ” had come between him 
and even apology. When he had gone back that evening 
to fling himself into a chair and gloom over the fire for 
a few minutes, he had told himself he was a fool. He 
had told himself so hundreds of times since that evening, 
until there had grown up in him the conviction that this 
sort of thing could not possibly last for ever. Why 
should it ? Why should three human beings be sacrificed ? 
And in heaven’s name to what? Not to a marriage of 
either soul or body. They all needed something which 
they had not got. Ted needed, or would need, a wife and 
children. These might be his if Aura were taken away. 
She needed the old, free, natural life. This Ned could 
give her in that island on the southern seas. And how 
much more? Ye gods! how much more of love — ^true 
love, and tenderness and truth ! As for his own needs, 
they were simple, being summed up in that one word — 


326 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


Aura. He needed her every instant of the day and night. 
He could not be content without her. Love had left his 
body ; it had invaded his mind ; it had not yet touched his 
soul. The personal element was still too strong for him, 
so by degrees he had brought himself to believe that per- 
haps the best way out of the impasse for all the three 
actors in the tragedy would be for him to beguile her 
away — if he could. 

“ You know you promised me last year,” he reiterated. 

“ Yes! I promised,” she said sadly, and he knew 
where her thoughts had fled. He used to see her so often 
in his dreams, wandering through great drifts of purple 
iris, the flower which brings the messages of the gods, 
leading a little child by the hand. She was there now, 
and a sudden dread came over him again lest nothing 
short of that would ever make her really happy. But 
the next moment he had roused himself. ‘ ‘ I should love 
to go, of course,” she went on. “ Fancy seeing Cwm- 
faernog and the floor of heaven! Only I can’t, can I? 
till Ted returns, and that may be ” 

“ Never, perhaps! ” interrupted Ned sarcastically. 
‘ ‘ He hasn T been much at home lately, has he ? ” 

She flushed up hastily. “ Why should he be? he is 

not like you — ^you are an idle man; besides ” she 

paused, her pride refusing to justify her husband even 
to Ned. “ It may not be for a fortnight,” she went on 
coldly; “ he never can tell. And by that time the hya- 
cinths will be over, and it would be no good. So — so it is 
no use thinking of it. ’ ’ 

But her very readiness in the self-defence of this re- 
fusal to blame her husband, decided him. If that went 
on much longer, the tragedy would become permanent. 
A sudden weariness of the whole foolish muddle seized on 
him. He was not going to have Aura spend her days in 
saintliness and martyrdom, growing more and more dig- 
nified and gracious, more and more motherly in the look 
of brimming alfection she never failed to give to him — 
to him her lover ! 

It was beyond bearing. He would break dowm the 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


327 


prison walls at all costs. He was tired to death himself 
of civilisation ; they would go into the wilderness and be 
happy. 

I will ask Mrs. Ramsay to come with us,” he said, 
knowing that he had not the slightest intention of so 
doing ; but if he was to take the law into his own hands, 
he would require a few days to mature his plans. 

‘ ‘ She can ’t come, ’ ’ he said two days afterwards ; “ she 
isn ’t quite up to it. ’ ’ 

Aura looked for a moment as if she were back in the 
iris fields. ‘‘I’m sorry,” she began. 

“ But,” went on Ned coolly, “ I believe I could take 
you there and back by the four-cylinder Panhard in a day 
— if you don’t mind starting rather early. Do come. I 
— I want a holiday too — badly. ’ ’ 

He looked like it. 

“ Poor Ned,” she said softly, for she had begun to 
realise her responsibilities towards him also. That was 
the worst of life; the great hidden tie between all 
creatures could so seldom be felt or seen until some 
wound stripped the quivering fiesh, and left the liga- 
ments bare. “ Yes ! I will come, ’ ’ she said after a pause, 
making up her mind that there, standing on the fioor 
of heaven, she would try and make him understand that 
she was worth no man’s passionate love. “ When shall 
we go? ” 

Something seemed to rise in his throat and choke him. 
“ The first fine day. Shall we say to-morrow? But we 
must start at five; and breakfast by the way.” 

“At five! ” she echoed joyously, looking more like 
herself than she had done for months. “ Oh Ned! how 
jolly! I haven’t been up at five for ages and ages. It 
disturbs Ted so — and then,” she hurried on — “ the serv- 
ants loathe it. They hate you to know how late they 

are.” ' ... , . 

She was ready waiting for him, with quite a colour in 
her cheeks when he drove up. It was a delicious morning, 
cool, clear, full of shafted lights and shadows from the 
rising sun. Aura tilted back her head triumphantly and 


328 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


gazed up at the little white fleecy clouds that were drift- 
ing steadily overhead before the westerly breeze. 

“I’m not going to look at anything grimy to-day,” 
she said with a laugh; “ and even Blackborough can’t 
soil those ! They are too gladly far away. Do you know 
that often when I ’ve nothing else to comfort me, 
I lie on my back in the garden and dream they are just 
feathers out of a great, soft pillow where I am finding 
rest! ” 

He felt a pang for her innocent self -betrayal, but he 
retorted gravely, “ That is your fault for not being con- 
tented with a good civilised wire-mattress. ’ ’ 

She laughed out loud. “ How nice of you to talk non- 
sense 1 It is exactly like old times ; exactly ! ’ ’ she cried. 
“ Ned ! do you think we were made to forget? I don’t.” 

“ Some things,” he said soberly, “ are best forgotten.” 

“ Not many,” she replied cheerfully. “ Sometimes, 
Ned, I seem to get at the meaning of so much by remem- 
bering, and then I see how all these little lives of ours 
work into one big w'hole ; and then — and then. ’ ’ She was 
silent, her eyes still upon the clouds. 

“ If her Majesty will deign to look upon this poor 
world, ’ ’ said Ned Blackborough after quite a long while, 
‘ ‘ she will see primroses. ’ ’ 

They were beyond the grime. The skies were blue, the 
trees, the grass were green, and far away the distant hills 
showed purple through the blossoming apple orchards. 

What need was there for more? 

Not once, not twice, but many times that day, as the 
car sped almost noiselessly through lanes and past home- 
steads and fields where the lambs lay white like little 
clouds dropped from heaven, Ned told himself joyfully 
that this was but the beginning of an end which would 
never come. 

“ Why are you putting on your goggles? ” she asked, 
as, by the low road round the coast — for the straight hilly 
pitch over the head of the valley was too bad for the 
motor — they came within measurable distance of Dinas. 

“ There are a lot of slate spiculse on the road,” he 


A SOVERUiaH REMEDY 


329 


replied coolly, “ and one got into my eye once. You had 
better put on a veil too. I brought one on purpose.” 

“ You think of everything, Ned,” she replied gaily. 

I never knew any one like you.” 

Except Guy Fawkes, or some arch traitor of that sort, 
he felt with a pang; but one had to take precautions, 
and if you set yourself up as a Deus ex machina to get 
people out of a muddle — why, some mud was likely to 
stick. 

So, disguised out of all recognition, they swept through 
the village of Dinas, and, passing the staring schoolhouse, 
took the turn towards Cwmfaernog. 

The villagers looked after them with slack curiosity, 
for Dinas was, as it had always been, immersed in its 
own trivialities. The revival had passed away, leaving 
its traces physical and mental no doubt, but ceasing to 
bring any new interest into life. At the present moment, 
however, the village had an absorbing interest of its own ; 
for in two days time the Reverend Hwfa Williams was to 
marry Alicia Edwards, and all the other young women 
in the place were in that curious state of mingled spite- 
fulness and vicarious nervous excitability which a wed- 
ding so often provokes in the feminine sex. 

“ They will not find any one at Cwmfaernog, what- 
ever,” said Isaac Edwards at his door, “ for Martha Bate 
and her husband went for a jaunt the day before yester- 
day. It is only old Evans from the shepherd ’s hut that is 
to milk the cows and feed the cocks.” 

Meanwhile the motor sped on, curving round the rocks. 

“ There is no more slate here, anyhow,” cried Aura 
joyfully, tearing off her veil. ‘ ‘ Oh Ned ! look, look ! The 
floor of heaven ? Ah ! do stop and let us look. 

He did not answer. The engine slowed, quivered, sunk 
to silence. Now, at last, he understood. Now he knew 
what he had seen in the iDoat so long ago, when the swift 
southern storm was sweeping up unseen behind him. 
This was the blue mist which had enveloped him and held 
him. A blue mist hiding the earth, hiding even every 
green thing from sight as it lay in wreaths in the hoi- 


330 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


lows or crept up and up and up, leaving itself in clouds 
to cover all things until it met the sky. 

The floor of heaven indeed ! 

Not quite so blue perhaps as that distant roof of 
heaven over which the heat of the day had spread a 
faintly violet haze ; but still — the floor of heaven ! 

No other words expressed it. Here, surely the angels 
of God might tread with unsoiled feet. 

“ Does not everything of earth seem to fall away,” 
came Aura’s voice all hushed and quiet, “ and leave one 
. . . free at last ! ’ ’ 

She was out of the ear standing, her sandalled feet just 
touching the carpet of hyacinths, her hands stretched out 
towards them, her face full of absolute undimmed joy. 
‘ ‘ See ! ’ ’ she continued, ‘ ‘ the dear things grow on to our 
very path — we won’t hurt them, will we? Let us walk 
on to the house and see Martha, then I will take you 
through a path in the woods to the best place of all.” 
She paused and looked at him curiously. “ Ned — what 
is it ? Something is wrong ! What is it ? ” 

‘ ‘ There is nothing wrong, ’ ’ he answered quietly, ‘ ‘ and 
I may as well tell you here as elsewhere. Martha is not at 
the house. ’ ’ 

She paled a very little. ‘ ‘ She is not there, ’ ’ she echoed ; 
“ why? ” 

‘ ‘ Because I sent her away. ’ ’ 

“You sent her away? ” 

“ Yes! because I wanted to be alone with you — and — 
we are alone — alone with nothing but our love between us 
— for you do love me ? Aura 1 ” he cried, his quiet giving 
way as he seized her hands and drew her towards him. 
“ Why should we go back to all the grime — to the dull, 
useless, foolish life? Come with me! No one wants us, 
no one will miss us, not even Ted ! It has all been a mis- 
take from the beginning. There is but one way to set 
things straight — to leave him free to do as he chooses — 
come ” 

‘ ‘ My poor Ned ! ’ ’ 

She stood unresisting before him, with all the mother- 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


331 


hood that was in her, looking at him through eyes that 
brimmed over with tears, and her voice, full of an over- 
whelming pity, smote on his ears, a knell to all his hopes. 
He knew it, he felt it to be so even as he listened. He 
let her hands fall with a sense of impotence to hold her. 

“ It is my fault, dear,” she said softly, “ I ought to 
have told you — I ought to have made you understand. 

Ned! I am worth no man’s love. I shall never ” 

He interrupted her with an angry impatient laugh. 
‘ ‘ But I do understand. It is you who cannot understand 
that love lives untrammelled by such trivialities. Aura ! 
were I your husband now, you would be a thousand 
times more dear — ^the tie between us would be a thou- 
sand times more strong ” 

‘ ‘ Hush ! ’ ’ she said, with a world of mysterious solem- 
nity in her voice. “ If that is true, Ned; if love really 
can live untrammelled by the body, why should it not live 
untrammelled by the mind? You want to see me, to hear 

me, to — ^to touch me — perhaps ! But Ned ! There is 

something that is beyond all this — ^that is beyond every- 
thing — beyond you and me, and yet it is you and I — that 

is ours now ” Suddenly her tone rose swift and 

sharp — ‘ ‘ Come, Ned I let us forget the rest is this not 

enough? ” 

He looked around him and, even amid such transcen- 
dental beauty as was there, shook his head. “ I cannot 
live on air. Aura, ’ ’ he said bitterly. ‘ ‘ No man can. ” 

Her face melted into gentle smiles. “ There is the 
lunch-basket, ’ ’ she said. 

He turned aside almost with a curse. “ It is easy to 
laugh, ” he began. 

“ Is it so easy? ” she asked, and once again her voice 
brought to him that sense of infinite pity, infinite denial. 
“ Then let us laugh, Ned, while we can. Come, let us lose 
ourselves. Oh Ned! give me one day unspotted by the 
world, untouched by trivialities, just this one day ! ” 

And as she took his hand, the glamour, not of this 
world, but of that which lies hidden beyond it, above it, 
claimed possession of his soul. The blue mist closed in on 


332 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


them. They stood on the floor of heaven with the sky 
above them. 

Down in the hollows with the silken fans of the half- 
opened beech-leaves overhead, a saffron-coloured azalea 
dropping its gold upon the blue, the pink campion strug- 
gling for a place amongst the blossoms, a tuft of white 
poet’s-narcissus looking up from the pool of water into 
which a scarce-seen runlet dripped and dropped. What 
colour ! What almost unimaginable beauty. 


Out in the open, in a cup in the hills where the carpet 
of heaven-blue hyacinths dwarfed into closer growth 
showed like a shadowy cloud against the clearer blue of 
the sky. What dreamfulness ! What peace ! 


Away on the springing heather on the mountain-top, 
with half Wales spread before you, and the westering sun 
obscured by just such a shadowy cloud, sending a great 
sloping corona of light rays to nestle in the dimples of 
the hills, and shine in shafted reflections on the distant 
sea. 

What visions of unending space, of ceaseless life ! 

“ Is it not time? ’’ she said at last as they sat in the 
sheep-shelter. 

The sun was beginning to sink in the west calmly, se- 
renely. The light shone round them, purest gold. Down 
in the valley, the blue hyacinth mist grew darker, colder. 

“Yes! It is time,’’ he said quietly. 

“ It has been quite perfect,” she said again. 

“ Almost perfect,” he assented; after all he was but 
human, and humanity does not live by sight alone. It 
craves to touch also. 

The motor was awaiting them where they had left it. 

She laid her hand on his for a second ere he started it. 

“ Say it has been quite perfect, Ned,” she pleaded. 


A SOYEREIGU REMEDY 


333 


He looked at her and smiled. ‘ ‘ I will not say it — you 
can say it for me. ’ ’ 

She was silent for a moment and then she spoke. 

“It has been quite perfect ! ’ ’ 

The motor sped on, the mist wreaths of the hyacinths 
grew dulled by young green sprouting ferns, and the 
rocks closed in for the swift turn by the school. The chil- 
dren were already out, and a group of them were playing 
on the road. They scattered, leaving it clear. And then, 
suddenly, from the shadow of the parapet-wall a little 
toddling child, escaping from the hand of its wide-eyed 
curiosity-struck elder, lurched out into the open. 

“ Oh Ned ! Take care— the child— the child ! ” 

Aura stood up, and in Ned’s sudden swerve inwards, 
an overhanging root from the high rocky bank above 
struck her full upon the temple. 

The child, shrieking mor^ from joyous excitement than 
fear, lurched back with outstretched arms to the shadow ; 
but Aura sank back, her head resting on Ned ’s shoulder. 

‘ ‘ My God ! Aura ! ” he cried. There was no answer. 
He did not stop the car, but sweeping it round the open 
space by the school, raced back to Cwmfaernog. There, 
he knew, all was ready for her reception, there everything 
would be to hand. As he sped through the misty blue 
cloud once more, he saw nothing of it. His eyes were on 
her whitening face. 

Dear God ! How limp she felt, as he lifted her in his 
arms and carried her across the drawbridge, and so 
through the garden to the house. A scent of violets and 
primroses, of lilies of the valley, of all things sweet as- 
sailed him as he entered the door that was only latched. 
He had brought the flowers when he had come down se- 
cretly to see that all things were prepared. He had 
brought them for her ! And the table set out with flowers 
and fruit — that was for her also. 

He stumbled up the stairs with his heavy burden to her 
room. He had not entered that. He had only climbed 
once more to her window-sill to set it abloom with white 


334 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


and purple iris — the messengers of the gods. How they 
mocked him now with their tale of immortality. His 
mind went back to many a Kashmir grave which he had 
seen, long and narrow like the sill set as thick with irises, 
high upon the hills, low amongst the dales. 

But she could not be dead ! 

Yet her head lay on the pillow just as it had touched it, 
her arm slipping from his support sank, till it could sink 
no more. 

‘ ‘ Aura ! ” he muttered faintly, ‘ ‘ Aura ! ^ ’ 

He knelt and laid his ear to her heart — oh! sweetest 
resting-place in all the world ! 

There was no sound, no beat. Yes ! she was dead ! 

He turned his face round into the soft pillow of her 
breast and whispered ‘ ‘ Aura. ’ ’ It seemed to him as on 
that midsummer night when he had first met her, as if 
all the world were wailing ‘ ‘ Aura ! Aura 1 ’ ’ 

How long he knelt there he scarcely knew; a faint 
sense of sound in the house roused him to the remem- 
brance that something must be done. 

He must call for help. But if he did that, every one 
must know that she was here with him alone. The world 
would judge, and what would that judgment reck of her 
spotlessness or his forbearance? No! that must not be, 
if he could compass otherwise. 

His mind, almost unhinged by the terrible shock, chased 
possibility through a thousand impossibilities, the least 
grotesque of these being a grave of his own digging 
amongst the hyacinths ; his subsequent flight being easy, 
since he had made all arrangements for a sudden disap- 
pearance. 

Was that a noise below — a faint creak on the stairs? 
The possibility troubled him. He crossed to the door, and 
opened it to find himself confronted by Ted Cruttenden, 
his face distorted by passion. 

“You scoundrel!’' he cried. “You — you infernal 
scoundrel — where is Aura — my wife? ” 

His very vehemence, his very lack of self restraint, 
brought back Ned Blackborough ’s wandering wits. He 


A SOVEBEIGN^ REMEDY 


335 

closed the door behind him, and stood with his back 
to it. 

‘ ‘ She is— not there, ’ ’ he said slowly. ‘ ‘ Ted ! listen for 
one moment. I brought her here ” 

“ Do you think I don’t know that, you damned vil- 
lain,” burst out Ted — “ when I came home this morning 
and found you had taken her — there was some cock-and- 
bull story the servants had about not sitting up for her, 
and a latch-key and all that rot — do you think I was fool 
enough not to understand — I ’ve never really trusted you. 
And now — and now — let me pass in, I say, or there ’ll be 
murder done.” 

“ Listen one moment ” the voice was inexorable. 

“ You never trusted me. I know that. Have you not 
trusted her^ Are you fool enough to have lived day and 
night with her, to have lain with your head upon her 
breast — and not known — No ! it is impossible. You know 
what she is — you must — you do know it ” 

Even to Ted Cruttenden’s mad jealousy, memorj^ could 
bring no fuel to feed the flame; his very anger sank for 
the moment to self-pity. 

“ I come home,” he muttered, “ I find her gone. I 
follow. I have walked over the hill to ” 

“ To — spy upon us ” interrupted Ned sternly, 

“ go on. ” 

‘ ‘ To spy upon you if you will, ’ ’ cried Ted, his passion 
rising again — ‘ ‘ and I find you here, in her room ’ ’ 

Ned opened the door behind him quietly. “ Because 
she is dead,” he said, and leaning against the lintel, his 
head upon his arm, waited. 

“Dead!” 

The whisper reached him from within full almost of 
fear ; and there was a long empty silence. 

“You will not say I killed her, I suppose,” said Ned 
bitterly at last. “ It was an accident. We were going 

back— back to you ’’ The very wonder of that fact 

stayed speech ; but he knew he must go on. “I am quite 
ready to let you shoot me, by and by, but at present I I 
want you to think of her — of yourself. I don t count. I 


336 


A 80YEREI0N REMEDY 


need count any more. But we must be quick about it. As 
I stand before — before Something that is mightier than I, 
I swear to you that I have done you no harm. We won’t 
go into the other question as to what harm you have done 
me. And for her — you know. But — but even if we had, 
what use is there now, in making a fuss in letting the 
world know that you have found her there — with me. 
Not a soul knows I am here. You can take my place, as 
you have taken it before. I can go, as I have gone 
before. ’ ’ 

From within, where Ted Cruttenden stood beside the 
bed, vaguely remorseful at his own lack of anything save 
anger, horror, regret, no answer came. 

“ Ted,” went on Lord Blackborough, “ you must de- 
cide. I can go the way you came, and you can call for 
help. It must be done at once. I ’ll tell you how it hap- 
pened so that you may know. We got here about noon. 
We didn’t go into the house. We were — we were in the 

woods and on the hills ” his voice failed a little, then 

grew monotonous. ‘ ‘ She said it was time to go, and I — 
I was a fool ! I said so too. Just at the corner by the 
school, a child, a little child, ran in front of the car. She 
— she called out — and rose. There was a root — oh ! Curse 
the damned thing — it struck her as I swerved. It has left 
a little blue mark — you can see it on her temple if you 
look. She never spoke. I brought her back. She was 
dead.” 

“You say you didn’t kill her,” burst out Ted, his 
voice now full of crude anger, grief, hate, ‘ ‘ but you did. 
You brought her here.” 

“ Is there any use in recriminations,” asked Ned 
wearily, “ you have to decide. And, after all, she — ^she 
was no wife for you — you are young yet ” Ted lis- 

tening, cursed him for repeating the inward thought that 
had forced itself into his mind. “You have all the world 

before you — and ” for an instant the voice hesitated 

as if ashamed, uncertain, then went on. “I had made 
out a deed of gift to you of a hundred and fifty thousand 
pounds. It is about all I have left, and the works and all 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


337 

that must go to the heir, you know. You see I meant to 
disappear, and I meant to take your wife, — so this was 
just payment. It can be just payment still. I shall not 
trouble you again. But — but you must decide at once.” 

He stood waiting for a moment or two, his head rest- 
ing as before upon his upraised arm upon the lintel ; then 
he heard a step, and lifted his eyes to check what he knew 
all too well would come from Ted ’s lips. Did he not know 
it? Was it not the answer of the world where everything 
even honour had its price? And was it not far better, 
far wiser? Was it not what he himself desired? 

“ You will find the motor by the bridge,” he said 
quietly. You had better call some one from the village 
first, and then the doctor. The children will give evi- 
dence, some of them were quite big, and no one at New 
Park knows anything. Good-bye? I shan’t see you 
again.” 

When Ted had gone, he closed the door, went down- 
stairs, gathered up the tell-tale flowers and fruits which 
he had brought, climbed to the window-sill and removed 
the iris, so, putting them all into a basket, went back to 
the woods. 

Before the car returned with its first consignment of 
help, the misty-blue wreaths of the hyacinths, darkening 
with the dusk, had hidden him. 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


He roused himself, for the night was passing. The last 
twinkling lights — the lights which he had been almost — 
unconsciously watching in the valley below him — had 
gone. 

But one steady star remained. That came from the 
room where she lay dead. It seemed incredible. Such 
sudden endings to all things came into life sometimes, of 
course ; still why should they come into his ? It was un- 
fair. He risked everything on this one stake. Bit by 
bit he had given up everything else. He had chased love 
to the outside edge of the world, and now — it had gone 
over the verge. 

He stood up and stretched himself, wondering vaguely 
how he had passed the last few hours. He had slept for 
a while, he knew. That was at the beginning, after he 
had gone, down to the hollow where they had sat together, 
and where he had planted the iris by the side of the nar- 
cissus which was too proud to look for its fellow^ in the 
earth-bounded pool at its feet. It had amused him — yes ! 
positively amused him — ^to dig holes for the bulbs with his 
pen-knife, and make a grave — long and narrow like the 
window-sill — just such a grave as he remembered on hill 
and dale at Kashmir. And it was not an empty grave 
either ; for he had buried in it the violets and the prim- 
roses, the lilies of the valley and all things sweet. 

In that first hour he must have been almost crazy with 
grief. 

But then, he remembered, he had lain down half-hidden 
by the hyacinths, dog-tired in mind and body to sleep a 
dreamless sleep. Then he had come and watched the 
lights until it should be dark enough for the night to 
bring disguise. 


338 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


339 


Now it had come, and it was time to be ffoine. 

Whither? 

As if that mattered ! He had come prepared for 
a secret journey, and there was a hundred pounds odd in 
his pocket. The thought made him smile bitterly. So far 
as outward circumstances stood, he Avas in exactly the 
same position as he had been two years ago when he and 
Ted had first met in a bicycle smash. In exactly the 
same position since what was there to prevent his turning 
up at New Park in a few days, and resuming his life as 
Lord Blackborough ? There was nothing to prevent it 
since the deed of gift could stand, of course ; nothing but 
his utter weariness. It would be better to start afresh. 

He looked at his watch. Yes ! it was time he was off. 
He would walk down the coast road to Pot-afon ; thence 
take the cargo steamer to Liverpool. All roads meet 
there. He would go off to the wilds somewhere, and after 
a year if — if nothing changed — he could easily fabricate 
his own death, and let the heir come into what he did not 
want. 

He set off for his night walk cheerfully enough. The 
glamour of that past day was upon him still, he seemed to 
hear her voice saying for him “ It has been quite per- 
fect. ’ ’ In reality those had been her last words, since the 
cry ‘ ‘ the child ! the child ! ’ ’ had been wrung from her 
by chance — by one of the unhappy chances and changes 
of this most unhappy world. 

‘ ‘ It has been quite perfect. ’ ’ Ay ! perhaps, but in the 
past tense. What of the present ? 

He paused at the bridge below the village where the 
mountain stream joined the river Afon, to look down to 
the still pool below the arch. 

In the moonlight it looked very quiet. One might sleep 
there without dreams if people would only leave one 
alone, but they would not. He leant over the parapet and 
smiled at the oddness of one hive of swpming atoms, ob- 
jecting to another hive of atoms choosing the hollow of 
a pool wherein to rest, interfering to fish it up and put it 
somewhere else in order to disintegrate into atoms again. 


340 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


And after the atoms? There lay the question. The 
atom and the human consciousness? Were not both an 
equal mystery born of the unity beyond? 

As he stood there absorbed in thought the sound of 
rapid footsteps echoed down the steep road from Dinas 
and, not wishing to be seen, he stepped back at once into 
the shadow of a tree that overhung the bridge. Looking 
up the roadway he saw a woman’s figure. She was run- 
ning swiftly with a curious unevenness, a curious uncer- 
tainty, yet evidently with some set purpose. As she 
passed him he caught a glimpse of her face, and — mere 
hive of atoms though he was — he started after her in a 
second. 

None too soon either! He had just had hold of her 
in time, as she wavered for an instant on the parapet. 

“You young fool! ” he said roughly. “ What’s the 
matter ? What are you doing that for ? ’ ’ 

The girl — she did not look more than twenty — stared at 
him vacantly as if she did not understand what he meant, 
then with a little cry of horror apparently at herself, 
covered her face with her hands, and crouched down be- 
neath his touch in a perfect storm of sobs. 

“ Don’t cry! ” he said more kindly, “ What is it all 
about ? What were you going to do ? ” 

“ I — I don’t know,” she wept. “ It — it came upon 
me suddenly that it was the only way — it swept me 
off my feet — oh ! wicked, wicked girl that I am — if — if it 
hadn ’t been for vou — Oh ! what shall I do ? What shall 
Ido?” 

‘ ‘ What ’s wrong ? ” he asked, impatient at her helpless 
emotion. “ Anything I can help ? Come ! it’s no use cry- 
ing. Of course you ’re a wicked girl, but as you evidently 
don ’t really want to kill yourself you ’ll have to live. So 
you had better make a clean breast of it. I daresay I can 

help — if it isn’t ” Her face looked innocent and 

pure, still one never could tell. ‘ ‘ Come — out with it ’ ’ — 

he went on — “ If it’s anything about money ” 

She caught at the word. ‘ ‘ Money ! Oh ! if I could 
only get the money,” she wailed. 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


341 


Come ! ^ ’ he said with a smile, “if it is only 
money 

So by degrees she told him her name was Alicia Ed- 
wards. She was the happiest, luckiest girl in the world, 
who was to be married in two days to the man she loved 
— to a saint upon earth. And she bore an unblemished 
character. And her father was also a saint upon earth. 
But that very evening by the post had come — not a bolt 
from the blue — for she had had an awful prescience that 
it would come, though who would have thought that My- 
fanwy would be so cruel, and she just married to the 
man she loved ! Oh ! it was wicked ! A bill, and such a 
bill too! A hundred and three pounds; and if it was 
not paid for at once it would be sent. Oh ! she would go 
mad with shame. 

‘ ‘ What was it for ? ^ ’ asked Ned, wearily good-natured. 

“ That is it,” wailed poor Alicia, “ it is for hats and 
dresses. And I ought to have paid. And what am 1, a 
minister’s wife, to ask him to pay such bills. And my 
father will not. What am I to do? If I was a bad girl 
it would be nothing ; but I am good, so very good ! I can- 
not face them saying I am bad. ’ ’ 

“ They would have said you were mad, I suppose, if 
you had jumped from the bridge just now,” said Ned 
grimly. 

Alicia looked at him furtively and wept again. 

What a world it was, thought Ned bitterly. Here wr 
a well-educated, deeply-religious girl occupied entirely 
in thinking what her neighbours would say of her ; those 
neighbours who, in a way, were as responsible as she. 
For was not humanity, as a whole, responsible for all 
the deeds of humanity. Was he not, in a way, responsible 
for his own birth, being as he was, but the outcome of his 
forefathers? Virtue and vice, honour and dishonour, 
were they not all hidden in that first Step of dancing 
Prakrit ? So there came to him for once a great humility, 
a patient acceptance of all the evil in the world as being 
part of himself. 

“ I will give you the money, child,” he said; you 


342 


A SOVEREIGT^ REMEDY 


shall marry the saint and be a saint yourself — why 
not? ” 

“ I can’t — I can’t take it,” she muttered, for all that 
holding fast to the purse he gave her; “ I can’t take it 
from a stranger.” 

‘ ‘ A stranger ? ” he echoed. ‘ ‘ Bah ! In the beginning, 
little girl, you and I were one. Remember that in all 
your little life. As it was in the beginning, is now, and 
ever shall be, world without end — Amen ! ’ ’ 

He stooped and kissed her as he left her at her father ’s 
door, and she stood looking after him, wondering if he 
were indeed a man or a vision. But the money was there. 
A hundred pounds in notes and three sovereigns. She 
would send them by the morning’s post to Myfanwy 
Pugh, and then 

Alicia Edwards fell on her knees beside her bed and 
thanked God for the money. 

Meanwhile Ned Blackborough had paused to re-make 
his plans in his new condition of pennilessness; for he 
had but a few shillings left for the immediate present. 
Afterwards there was money and to spare awaiting him 
at various points on the route which he had carefully pre- 
pared for Mght. Still he must first get to a point. 

Then the remembrance of the hundred pounds he had 
hidden away in the cleft of the rock up on the hills came 
to him, making him laugh; because there was no ques- 
tion now as to who needed it. He came back to it a beg- 
gar; beggared, indeed, of all save life. Yet life was all. 
The words of the Indian sage came back to him : — 

“ Indestructible the life is, spreading life thro’ all. 

I say to Thee weapons reach not the life. 

Flame burns it not, waters cannot overwhelm 
Nor dry winds wither it. Impenetrable, 

Unentered, unassailed, unharmed, untouched. 
Immortal, all arriving, stable, sure, 

Thus is the Life declared.” 

Vaguely he felt comforted. The sense of Unity lay 
around him in the air. He saw the Golden Gateway. He 


A /SOVERUIGN REMEDY 


343 


knew that its Door was open. But his love kept him from 
entering. He could yield himself without one sigh to 
the Beginning that was the End, but he could not yield 
her, for he had not yet realised that she also was the Be- 
ginning, the End. 

The dawn was just breaking as he reached the gap, and 
searching in the cleft found nothing. 

Was he glad, or was he sorry? He was not sure. In 
a way he felt more free, since he need now have no 
plans for the future. He could sit down and watch the 
sun rise. After that he could walk over Llwydd-y- 
Bryd to the coastline by the country town, and so — 
anywhere ! 

This was sufficient, surely, for the moment. 

The sun rose in a panoply of purple and red with, low 
down above the hills, a band or two of torquoise blue to 
hint of the vast fields of calm ether beyond the storm 
clouds of the world. 

‘ ‘ Aura ! Aura ! Aura ! ’ ’ 

Even there, to the far, unending depths, the cry echoed. 
A cry apart, poignant with individual anguish. 

He started up and moved on. The staghorn moss 
trailed clinging to the soil beneath his feet, a hawk hover- 
ing in the air was held to its place also by the same force 
which sent the world on which he stood, spinning on its 
way. But still that love, that grief of his, would not be 
made one with Nature. 

“ Aura! Aura! Aura! 

He stood on the summit of Llydd-y-Bryd once more. 
Even the “ gingerbeer ” had gone from the shieling now; 
but it would not be long before humanity returned once 
more with placard and paste-pot to appropriate the spot 
to base uses. 

Down in the blue hollow yonder lay Cwmfaernog, and 
in Cwmfaernog lay — no ! not Aura ! Aura was of the 
woods and hills. He could feel her in them separate, dis- 
tinct from himself. He would not give her up ; he could 
not. He would give one more look at the peaceful little 
valley from the crag yonder, and then take her with him ; 


344 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


something he would not yield, not even to the Force which 
held the round world sure. 

The round world perhaps — but — ye Gods ! 

His foot slipped, he caught at a root to save himself, 
it gave way — he fell. 

The hot noon-tide sun was beating down on him when 
he woke to consciousness again. He tried to move, and 
could not. After a time his mind returned clearly; he 
pinched himself upon the thigh and felt nothing. That, 
then, was the reason why he felt no pain, for one of his 
legs was evidently broken. He had injured his spine, and 
it was paralysed below the waist. This, then, was the 
end. 

‘ ‘ Aura ! Aura ! ’ ’ 

His heart leapt up in him. It could not be long now. 

He was lying in the corrie into which he and Ted had 
vainly tried to get that first night of the storm, and as 
he lay he could watch the sun tilt from its high glory in 
the heavens, to touch the world in the west then disap- 
pear. It would be a beautiful sunset. How many more 
would he see, he wondered. How long would it last? 
Some days perhaps. 

How idle all things — money, happiness, even love itself 
seemed beside this certainty of leaving them all. The 
only thing that money had jbrought to him was the death 
of a wild animal — thank God ! — alone ! Except for Aura. 

Aura ! Aura ! Aura ! 

Yes ! she had been right. Love like his needed nothing. 
It could exist — navy ! grow to greater strength without 
trivialities. They were beyond the Shadow of the Night 
now; nothing could touch them again. They would go 
on and on. . . . 

That night he slept a little under the stars, and in his 
dreams he saw her walking amid the drifts of iris leading 
a little child by the hand. Her face was sad, and as he 
tried to comfort her, his eyes opened ; and lo ! it was dawn 
once more. 

A primrose dawn, with little faint, far grey clouds 
just decking the wide waste of gold. 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


345 


“ It was quite perfect.’’ 

Her words came back to him. She was wrong. The 
part could not be perfect, and what were they, their 
griefs, their joys, their loves, but part of the great whole. 

His mind was beginning to wander a little, and in the 
high noon tide he slept to dream that he saw the little 
child alone. Her head was crowned with iris flowers, her 
feet were among them, her eyes were violet and white as 
they were. They looked into his. “ Mother says you 
have no right, ’ ’ came her childish voice. “ I am the im- 
mortality of the race. Die and forget her. Die and for- 
get all things.” 

When he awoke, a raven, perched on a rock hard by, 
cawed hoarsely, and flapped lazily away to watch from 
a greater distance. 

A few drops of water trickled from the rock close be- 
side him. He had hollowed out a little cup for it with - 
hand and drank of it from time to time. Now he poured 
some of it on his head which had begun to ache. What 
use was there in prolonging the agony? The sooner it 
was over the better. He searched in his pockets for any 
scrap of paper which might betray him, and, tearing 
them up, dug them toilfully into the ground, almost amus- 
ing himself in restoring the spot to perfect homogeneity 
with its surroundings. 

His gold signet ring he flung away into the little pool, 
which, collecting the surface drainage of the very sum- 
mit, brimmed up below the rock to overflow in a tiny 
stream. He tried to make a duck and drake of it as his 
last contribution to the sovereign remedy, but he failed, 
and he smiled at his failure. 

He was becoming very much detached, even from him- 
self, and the one thing to which he clung was the memory 
of his love. 

Aura ! Aura ! Aura ! 

He must find her somewhere ; and she seemed so close ! 
Sometimes he wondered if she were not there, in his eyes, 
in his heart. 

‘ ‘ Aura, ’ ’ he murmured to himself ; ‘ ‘ Aura ! ’ ’ 


346 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


That night he slept dreamlessly. And when he opened 
his eyes, lo ! there was a Sea of Light. The great shining 
arch of the sky seemed to him the golden gate ; the open 
door lay behind him. He was on the other side. He had 
found himself and her as they had been always, not as a 
part but as the whole. 

‘‘ Tad ek am,” he thought, realising with a rush that 
He was All Things, and that All Things were in Him. 
So, as he lay gazing, the round sun rose gloriously, and 
he sank into unconsciousness. 


When he awoke it was to find himself in a work-house 
infirmary; a long, bare room set in a straight row with 
beds. Some hive of atoms must have found him on the 
mountain-top and brought him to die here. Well ! it 
could not be for long. There was a black screen folded 
up, ready for use, at the foot of the bed. He knew what 
that meant; but nothing seemed to matter now that he 
had passed the open door to lose and find Himself. 

Only those who lose can find.” His mind, blurred, 
confused, lingered over this certainty. 

‘ ‘ He is conscious, ’ ’ said a voice beside him, and a face, 
dark, curiously eager, bent over him. It was Morris 
Pugh’s. Walking over the hills that morning on his way 
to Caeron, the county town, he had come upon Ned Black- 
borough, had summoned help, and brought him to the in- 
firmary’'. And now, although having seen him but once in 
his life, he had failed to recognise the light-hearted maker 
of ducks-and-drakes in the worn, unconscious man, so 
close to death, he longed with all the eagerness that was 
in him, that, ere he had to leave him to death, he might 
have the chance of saying some word for the Master. For 
these eighteen months of hard, practical work in the 
slums of London while they had sobered Morris Pugh, 
had left him still ardent. 

“ Hullo! ” said Ned weakly. “ I’ve seen you before 
somewhere — haven ’t I ? ” He paused, and some one gave 
him another spoonful of stimulant. He wondered 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


347 


va^ely why he took it, since death must come; but it 
was as well to please people— if you could. “I re- 
member now, ’ ' he went on, as if he were recalling it from 
very far away. “ It was when we hid the hundred 
pounds. You were the parson who said, ‘ Money was 
the root of all evil.’ ” He gave a ghost of a smile, 
then looked into the dark eyes curiously. “ I suppose 
you took it ? ” 

Morris Pugh flushed at the very memory of that never- 
to-be-forgotten search for God ’s providence on the moun- 
tain-top. 

‘‘So it was you who made the ducks and drakes — I 
remember,” he said slowly. “No! I did not take it; 
but — but I looked for it, and it was gone. ’ ’ 

“ Gone,” echoed Ned, and lay thinking. 

“ Then it must have been Ted who took it,” he mur- 
mured, going back into the past. “ He must have gone 

that midsummer night — why, yes 1 of course ” Then 

suddenly his dulled mind grasped the whole sequence 
of events. “ He — and Hirsch — ^that is how he got Aura 
— my money — damn him! ” 

“ Hush! ” came Morris Pugh’s voice sternly. “You 
stand too close to the judgment yourself for curses ” 

“ I — I will say bless him, if that suits you better,” 
murmured Ned wearily. “ And if you don’t mind — I 
prefer to stand alone.” 

‘ ‘ No man can stand alone before the judgment seat of 
God, ’ ’ pleaded Morris Pugh earnestly. “ I do not know 
what your life has been, but the best of us need an advo- 
cate ; and there is One. ’ ’ 

“ My life? ” echoed Ned dreamily. “ I want to for- 
get my life — not to talk about it — if you would go — and 
leave me.” Then he opened his eyes again. “ Did you 
bring me here ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Yes ! I brought you — I found you unconscious. But 
there is One who will bring you safe into the fold. ’ ’ 

“ I wonder if you would — be kind enough to let me — 
die alone. ’ ^ 

“ Alone! ” echoed Morris Pugh. “You can never be 


348 


A SOVEREIGN REMEDY 


alone. And even for this world, would you not like us to 
call your friends — to let them know ? ’ ’ 

‘‘ I — I have my friends,” he answered; “ I want — 
nothing. ’ ’ 

So after whispering about him regretfully, they left 
him for a while, and he lay staring at a ray of sunlight 
which slanted through the window at the further end of 
the ward, and fell, in a golden glory, upon an empty bed. 
If it had only fallen upon his ! 

Gold ! Yes ! everything was gold in this world. How 
people fought for it, selling their souls, their bodies for it ! 
yet how little it meant. A hideous mockery, indeed, was 
this Christian greed of gold. And yet money meant much 
— Ted — damn him ! 

“ Mate,” came a voice from the next bed, where a 
tramp, hollow-eyed, unshaven, who was recovering from 
an attack of pneumonia, had lain listening, coughing. 

‘ ‘ Tain ’t no business o ’ mine in a way, but there ain ’t no 
good your lyin’ an’ damnin’ a man as ain’t done you no 
’arm. ’Tain’t in a way fair on you for me ter let you 
go to ’ell over a lie. It’s the rumm’est start as I sh’ud 
be ’ere, but — ye see, Ted — ’ooever ’e may be — didn’t 
take that ’undred — I took it. ’ ’ 

“ You! ” he said faintly. 

“ Me! ” echoed the tramp. “ It’s — it’s the rumm’est 
start ; but — you see I was on the lay atwixt Blackborough 
an’ Liverpool. Outer- work-an ’-emigration lay it ’twas, 
an’ not a bad one in the summer time, for them Welsh is 
generous. I was asleep in the gorse close by when you 
two come by an’ smashed. Then you begun shieing the 
shiners about, an ’ I waited thinkin ’ to get some of ’em out 
after you’d gone. An’ I did too, what with bein’ able to 
dive. But there! The ’ole thing wasn’t much worth; 
not more than one good drunk, an ’ then it was over. But 
don’t you go a-lyin’ an’ damnin’ the wrong fellar. It 
was me, not ’im ; so curse me an ’ welcome if it do you any 
good.” 

He rolled over on his pillow, and said no more. 

Ned lay still, and smiled inwardly. His mind was 


A SOYEREIGHJ REMEDY 


349 


clouding fast. He felt vaguely glad that Ted had not 
taken the money. But, then, how could he have taken it, 
seeing that it had never existed ? They had all thought of 
it, and relied on it, and gone to look for it ; and there was 
nothing. It never had been anything but a dream. 

The gold sun-ray had crept down the ward. It lay 
now closer to him. If he could only die in the sunlight ! 
That was the only gold worth having. 

How the atoms danced in it! unceasing, endless. He 
felt their vibration in himself, but beyond the dancer lay 
sightlessness, and touchlessness, and soundlessness. 

Faint voices came to him from around his bed. 

‘ ‘ There is time yet ! Repent and be saved. Put your 
trust in Him ! Keep your eyes fixed on Him — remember 
that you are bought with a price.” 

There was just the flicker of a faint courteous smile. 

“ Caveat Emptor^^^ murmured the dying man, and 
turned his face to the sun-ray. ‘ ‘ Aura ! ” he murmured. 
‘ ‘ Tad eh am. ’ ’ 

The sun-ray shifted, crept to his bed, and lay there, 
golden. 


AUC 1 1906 








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A Sovereign Remedy 


BY 

FLORA ANNIE STEEL 


New York: 1906 


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